


The Cycles of The Balance

by AsunderWolf



Category: Den lengste reisen | The Longest Journey, Dreamfall Chapters
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Other, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-08-11 05:40:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 102,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7878664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsunderWolf/pseuds/AsunderWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fight against the Azadi Empire is so ancient that it is hard to remember when it started. The Cycle keeps on repeating the same mistakes over and over, in an unstoppable spiral down. The only thing that matters is survival at any cost, but this process is destroying the fragile fabric of the worlds. How long would it take for the Resistance to fall into the same hating Cycles?. </p><p>[Fill based fic focused mainly in Likho, with slight canon variations, starting before Dreamfall:The Longest Journey, passing through Dreamfall Chapters and denying the existence of book 5. So, this fic will follow canon until the end of book 4. After that point, I go my own way, bro.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spocksandshoes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spocksandshoes/gifts), [DarkRose89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkRose89/gifts), [Nathamuel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nathamuel/gifts).



> Thank you Spocksandshoes for your great work in beta reading this chaos. It would have never been decent without your sacred hands, killing every attempt of weird phrasal verbs, destroying the wrong prepositions and pointing out those Spanglish words that sometimes appear. Thank you a lot.

A thin breeze moved the few messy strands over her face, caressing her cheeks and waking her, which was not easy, after the night she had. She groaned and lazily ran her fingers through her hair. Her body was reluctant to awake completely. She turned around, and tried to find the other body, whose fresh smell was still all over her skin but she only found an empty space. Losing her drowsiness, she lifted a bit, resting her weight on her elbows. And then, in contrast with the half opened windows from which she could see the sunrise, she found him seated on the edge of their humble bed. His white hair was a mess, loosened and falling over his broad, hardened shoulders. Many scars decorated his bare back, alongside with some scratches she could not restrain the previous night.

As usual, the man stayed hours sat in that edge, as if he were before an abyss, still deciding to jump off or not. Maybe that was a single metaphor for all of them. Resistance was, before anything, the constant walking on a precarious, rusty, and unstable edge. It did not only require strength of body, but of the mind as well.

She caressed his lower back.

That attitude of the Dolmari, absent-minded as soon as the silence ruled a moment, was slowly turning into a habit. It was more than mere worries related to the Resistance. It was something more. Something that April started to perceive long time ago, but had no right to say a word. She knew that sometimes oneself is the only one that have to open their eyes by their own.

“Did I wake you?”, he said, turning his face and giving her his left side. It was the most beautiful side of the man. A delicate mole had decorated his eyelid, and a birthmark gave him a strange eyeliner all over his left eye's corner.

“No”. She smiled, falling again on the bed, and contorting her body to get closer to him. She placed her hand over his side ribs, and caressed an old scar of a wound had almost killed him in the past. “Is this a Dolmari habit?”. Her voice had a trace of mischievousness.

Curious, the man took her hand and entangled his fingers with hers. "What do you mean?"

“Never sharing a whole night in the bed?, always looking at a corner or somewhere else in silence, brooding...”

He turned away slowly, and looked through the precarious window. “I'm not a cuddling person”, he finally said after a long silence.

She chuckled in disbelief.

A strange feeling, too much proximity, the blood shared in battle. One thing went to another, and somehow, in a night like any other, they found themselves entangled between sheets and sighs. It happened a second, third time. Then, it was often. But it was more than just stress relief. It was a bit of certainty in doing what was normal to do, in recovering something lost, in having someone to trust in. A lover, a friend, a comrade, family, a _deeply_ _complicated_ feeling **.** At first it was just an awkward small nuisance, but over time it grew, like his love for her, and that dichotomy suffocated his chest every night after.

In just two blinks, he was again lost in his own memories.

* * *

 

The West had begun to stockpile weapons and face the Azadi armies in a futile resistance to the invasion. Their lives had turned upside down the first day they spotted the armies in the horizon. The villages were raided, and those whose said anything against it were immediately executed. It was a systematic cleansing process for magicals. Soon after, Intiqua-aba lands started to be called Sadir, and the Dolmari culture along with other magicals were pushed to the south, forced to seek shelter in the plains or in its cold mountains. What had started when he was just a kid had been continuing over all those years, adding up bigger amounts of blood and corpses.

War was different for each magical. The merchant Zhids and some alchemist traditional Dolmari families were allowed to exist even inside Sadir's walls, in ghettos full of magicals. But for the Dol-intiqua, the most rigid clan in the Westlands, it was completely different. The Azadi and Likho's people had been fighting each other generation after generation, and that grudge had evolved into a plain prey-hunting conflict. His people, from being treated as warriors worth fighting face-to-face, had ended up being perceived as mere animals, hunted down, skinned, and used to feed their beasts. The Azadi did not see the difference between killing a Dolmari or a worm. This injustice combined with the indifference of other magicals that looked away just to avoid involvement, and the deep cruelty that his own people, his village, his own family had to bear, kept feeding his anger and his resolve to put an end to those damned humans.

Before he could reach adulthood, he was recruited by the Dol-Intiqua resistance, or put in other words, one of the small scattered groups around the West that had enough strength to keep feeding their anger against Sadir. However, it lacked of numbers, organization and communication. It was just an angry group around the surroundings of the City of the new Empire, killing small groups of Azadi without accomplishing a real liberation.

The Dol-Intiqua resistance acquired its true form when news from the Northlands reached the beaches: from Marcuria, a new resistance organization was rising, and it was willing to join any magical group that was against the Azadi Empire. In order to gather strength it was needed a solid but dynamical communication system, and mutual consent for future use of tactical strategies. The Dol-Intiqua resistance needed leaders interrelated.

Maybe it was his youth's fault or just more of his blind hatred that fuelled his desires of watching the Empire to fall, but Likho ended accepting the weight of being in charge of one group of the Resistance in the West. He had to learn how to create allegiances with the rest of groups, to think and to plan with detail instead of letting his anger take control of his mind, and he had to teach others not to compromise the group position in favour of personal reasons. Ironically, he had to teach them not to seek what they wanted when they joined into the Resistance: vengeance, at least not in a blind way. An ambitious task.

Even though he had not shown a particularly ingenious skills in leadership of masses, he had enough violent charisma to inspire war even in the tenderest of children. Words were not his strength, but actions and fast resolve were, and for a scattered group of scared people looking for guidance, that was all what they needed.

However, his lack of experience was the beginning of the end. Some strategical Azadi raids sufficed to destroy half of their slowly developed system of communication, and with it, all the magicals related to it: messengers, smugglers and intermediates. It had been such a loss, not only from a Resistance's point of view; he had lost friends, comrades, teachers, children that looked at him as a role model. Everyone that had been caught alive in those raids had been tortured to death. It was impossible not to acknowledge those deaths as a direct result of Azadi actions, but also, as an indirect end of his own wrong decisions.

That blow undermined Likho's faith in the Resistance. It was not like he was going to give up on it, but he realised that it was not so simple. It was not the salvation, neither the path to follow in order to reach justice. It was the desperate strokes of an almost drowned person, knowing that any movement may sink them deeper, but still trying, because there were no more choices.

And in that strong belief of being born for having no choices at all, Likho kept feeding his aimless anger, the same that appeared the day of his father's death and it had never eased off since.

That thirst of vengeance, that object he tried to teach on others to control, was a poison that kept on draining his energy. It was an endless frustration that was eating him from the inside, but at least it was something to go on. Anger that had a purpose, that was fed by everything that had been lost, by all his people's blood, by his family's suffering. It was the fuel of their sense of survivability.

 

That night he went to the Sorrow's Throat, a long and spiky set of mountains in the North of the Westlands, where a friend of his, ostracised by his own people, built a place to hide rebels temporarily. At first Likho thought that the man was hiding himself from the Empire, but after talking a while with him, he was not so sure anymore.

His name was Delkran, a noble name in Dolmarian language meaning _the one who brings freedom_. He was born in a merchant family that allowed him to study science and magic at the same time. Due to the constants raids led by the Azadi Empire, he was unable to continue his studies and ended working with his family in the main market of Sadir. There it was where he met Likho, who used to recruit Magicals from the deep forest in the East, but also from the ghetto inside the Empire's walls.

The mutual comradeship between them was immediate; both of them had a taste for short, blunt words, and a deep hate against Azadi. It did not take much effort for Likho to recruit him. Delkran was going to perform spy work while looking as a merchant, staying in the surface as a mere seller of fruits and spices, but gathering intelligence in every small, casual comment that he could heard from any Azadi. And for a while, his work was spotless.

However, one day out of the blue, Delkran disappeared from the Market of Sadir. Likho's first thought was Azadi cleansing runs, where a group of Azadi soldiers used to raid the ghetto many times in a year to keep it “ _clean_ ”. But usually, after the fateful day, many Magicals mourned in their own silent way all those who had been lost, something that was completely the opposite with Delkran's family. Instead, his parents denied Delkran's existence, and many of his closest friends insisted Likho to forget about him. Nobody was giving more than vague information, and that was not usual for a Magical after cleansing raid.

Only after weeks following a heavily hidden track, he found him in a precarious house, in a southern dead end path in middle of the Sorrow's Throat, surrounded by snow and cold, quite different weather from the usual Intiqua-aba warmth.

The Dolmari was safe and sound, and his personality was almost the same. _Almost_. Something inside him had been bittered. Although he was now a taciturn man, his resolve to work for the Resistance was still intact.

It was hard not to wonder what had caused that such gentle man as Delkran could end rejected by his own family that way. However, Likho's inner knew that it had no sense to ask about it. It was clear enough something heartbreaking had cut him from his family, and the wound left was festering inside Delkran, silently.

Delkran had built a small, precarious shack close to a cliff of the long Sorrow's Throat path. Now exiled of the ghetto and from the market, the Dolmari had offered his help to the Resistance as a safe hideout. A really good hideout, not far away from the city of the Empire but a good spot that no Azadi could imagine. Any rebel or magical in distress that was fleeing from the bloody sword of the soldiers would find temporal shelter there, until the Resistance could contact them in order to offer a solution. Therefore, the ostracised Dolmari was key not only for the configuration of the Resistance in the West, but also for its survivability.

 

However, one day everything changed.

Likho received late at night the signal of a rebel spy that had been discovered. Rebel spies were the ones with more information about the Resistance, so they needed to escape alive as soon as they were uncovered. Only few of them were brave enough to put an end to their life. Being caught and tortured by the Empire was not an option. It required only one of them, just one, to doom the Resistance.

As part of the rescue team, that night Likho snuck alone in the big City. It took him a while to find the Resistance spy as he kept avoiding the highly cautious patrols running across the City. Close to the Docks, he found the other Dolmari called Palevan. It was hard to believe that man was a spy. He was big and extremely muscled. His hair was long, gathered in a spotless braid falling aside his neck. He had a short, delicate beard **,** and his skin, light blue, lacked of any scar. It was said that the sons and daughters of shamans were always too focused on rituals and tradition, so their skins, so far away from the accidents of the daily life, were one of the less scarred among the Dolmari. But those times were lost in time, and in Sadir it was hard for any magical not to have a wound badly healed.

They ran through the darkest alleys of Sadir, strangely never being seen by the Azadi. For a change, it seemed that luck was on the Resistance's side. After many hours avoiding the patrols, and when the Sun was starting to rise, they could finally leave the City and head to the Sorrow's Throat. The breeze, heavier and colder than never, was an omen that Likho missed completely.

Limping in a strange pace with blood tingeing his hips and trousers, Palevan seemed to be wounded, but nothing that could kill him. On the other side, Likho hardly could stay on his feet, not because any wound, but the exhaustion he was dealing with. For almost three days, he had been saving several Resistance agents without stop, and his energies were faltering after so long time.

Exhausted, both kept walking in the long, cold paths of the mountains until they found the shack. Without knocking, they entered, revitalised by the magical warmth that suddenly surrounded them.

As usual, Delkran was in his chair, in front of that blue, magical fire, reading peacefully. He even draw a smile at Likho, content that one more time the man came back sound and safe. However, his face changed slowly into surprise at the sight of the other Dolmari. In a blink of an eye, unexpected even for himself, Palevan drew his daggers, and ran into the scholar. There was ire and fear in his movements. Due to tiredness slowing down his reflexes, Likho hardly could act in time. A guttural scream was all that he remembered when he pulled the attacker from Delkran and threw him away. Likho tried to offer any assistance, but the unstoppable amount of blood oozing from Delkran's chest paralysed him. It had been a death sentence. It was what the experienced spy had decided the second he passed through that door.

“Why!?”, Likho yelled, with eyes full of blood. The acid taste of treason was filling his mouth.

“Ask _that_ to _him_ , he would have costed me... _us_ a big deal.” Palevan said as he was standing on his foot, hardly controlling his trembling pulse.

Likho observed the man in his arms, pressing that wound with his bare hands, in a vain attempt to keep him in this world. He clenched his jaw, frustrated of his mediocre powers, as he kept wondering who was the real betrayer. It was almost impossible for him to believe that a Dolmari could help the Azadi, the same Empire that never stopped to treat them less than livestock. His train of thoughts were broken with adrown laugh from the agonized man. A laugh choked with blood.

“The only treason here is yours, my dear Palky. How much I've given you, how easily you forget it. Killing me won't change what we...” But his words stopped amid, and his eyes darkened with death.

Still unable to understand, Likho closed Delkran's eyes, and put his body on the floor, contorting his face in pain and confusion. He was tired of losing good friends. Anger, memories, and the natural impulse of youth forced him to unsheathe both of his daggers and corner Palevan, but the man dodged it quite well for a wounded man.

“Are you working for the Azadi?”

“This has nothing to do with the Resistance”, Palevan said after a second, dodging the new attack. He could not conceal the hesitation in his words.

“To me, this doesn't look like it.”

“You won't understand.”

“Try me”. In the moment Likho muttered his words, he knocked back the man with a hit of his elbow, and pushed him against the shack, breaking part of it. The man rolled all over the snow, and his head hit against some rocks, remaining lost for some seconds. Likho took advantage of that moment, and sat on his stomach to grab firmly his hair and to press the icy blade against his throat **.** "I want answers. And I'm really good at finding them."

“Like I said. It's not related to-”

Likho moved his dagger fast, and cut half of Palevan's ear. “I want answers!. Am I clear?!” he shouted.

Palevan screamed, withered under Likho's body. Fear brightened his eyes, as he nailed his fingers in Likho's arms, “Stop this nonsense, you crazy bastard!. I had a personal issue with him, and I was got carried away. That's all!.”

“Carried away?. You killed him!.”

“He deserved it!.”

Likho tightened the grip in the hair, and observed the man. “What?. Tell me the damned truth, or I can take it from you. You are with the Azadi, aren't you?” He could not understand what could be the real reason behind such action, and he only could fulfil the holes with his own guessing. Blind with anger, Likho stabbed the dagger in the snow, an inch close to the man's eyes level, “How could one of my people-!”, with his bare hand, he ripped off slowly the rest of the ear. The scream echoed between the mountains. “I. Need. Answers!.” Likho snapped at the man.

“Stop, stop.” the man cried, bitter tears falling from his eyes unwillingly. Something had been defeated in the wounded man. “He's done to me... I-I hated him... I swore-”. The man was unable to complete a single sentence because pain or shame prevented him to do so. However, that was a waste of time that Likho could not handle well. In his mind the only true reason behind this assassination was a treason. Out of control, Likho took the dagger that had just stick in the snow, and pierced Palevan's shoulder with it, moving the knife in wide open circles. “Please, stop, stop it. I'll tell you the truth. We were _ga'andaar_.” the man exhaled when the pain halted for a moment and gave him an instant for recovering.

_Ga'andaar._

The word had meant a blow to Likho, who looked at the man with another kind of mixture between anger and repulsion. Unconsciously, he frowned at him, “What?”.

“I know. Disgusting. But I've recovered myself. I've come back to be a true Dolmari. He didn't want to, but...”

Wary, Likho squinted at him, confused. He was still trying to make sense all what Palevan had said a moment ago. “You... recovered?”.

“He, he spoke about us to his family. That's why he disappeared. He had to. But _Ga'andaars_ never have enough. Not content with that he was planning, for sure, to ruin my life too. You know how nasty _they_ can be. He could have appeared in my home any day, or even worse, to uncover my position for the Azadi, just to take revenge on me for not being like him anymore. I was not going to risk that. What would you have done in my place?. I had to stop him before... before he could have done more harm. To me, and the Resistance.”

Likho observed the dead body inside the partially destroyed shack, and astonished, looked all the blood spread in the snow. “Are you telling me you have just killed our best strategical man for helping rebels to flee just because you fucked him?.”

“It was a mistake. I'm not like him anymore. I've never again-”

“I don't fucking care about that, frigid bastard. Did you kill a vital man to the Resistance for that?.” he pushed the dagger deeper as Palevan screamed. Now Likho was angry, because that death, because the plans for the Resistance were going to hell from now on, because that disgusting man at his front was repulsive in every single way. He pushed the knife deeper. “You screwed up a Resistance resource just for personal satisfaction.”

"Stop it!. Stop that shit!. It was not only that, there is more!". Likho raised an eyebrow and listened thoroughly. "I was investigating him for a while. He had some filthy relationships with Azadis. Revolting ones, if you know what I mean. After all, what can you expect from a _ga'andaar_. I believe he was going to betray us at any moment. The Empire already knew about this place. It was not safe anymore."

“If you already knew all this, why you didn't tell us before?”

“And why do you think I was uncovered so suddenly?

Likho sighed heavily, and got up from the ground. Still observing the lifeless body aside, he could not process what had just happened yet. A treason? By a Dolmari? With Azadis? Were they talking about Delkran? _Ga'andaar?._ "He had been helping the Resistance for years, faultlessly. Why would he-"

"And I've been working the same years as a spy. Faultlessly too. I know the other side very well. But again, what could you expect from a _ga'andaar_. They will doom our people before the damned Azadi do."

Likho looked at the man in the ground who was struggling to sit down and to touch the dagger in his shoulder. Still shocked by the chance that a friend killed at his front could be a traitor, he frowned at Palevan, recapping, "But early you said that killing him had nothing to do with the Resistance."

The man screamed in pain when took the dagger off from his shoulder in a quick movement, taking some time to gather the words. "I wanted to find more evidences before killing him. Physical evidences. So no bastard would suggest I'm the fucking traitor. But you see, you find bastards everywhere." Palevan said with a clear, cynical tone.

Another heavy sigh came out from Likho's mouth while observing the corpse. Was this for the Resistance's sake?. Or was it the pure reflection of the inner hatred Dolmari cultivated for some?. _Ga'andaars_. Was Delkran's death necessary for keeping safe Palevan's honour?; was really Delkran, such a quiet and gentle person, going to put Palevan in a precarious situation with the Azadi?; but, was Palevan not already in such place, having to flee from the Empire before his head could roll on the ground?. Even though it was hard to believe, it had a big, tangible truth: Intiqua-aba's tolerance had its limits. Crossing them was always paid in blood. "You said you... were his ...lover?". Likho awkwardly whispered.

"Fuck off. Don't use that word for a _ga'andaar_ They don't have lovers, they can't even understand what love means. They are just vicious _creatures_. Fuck them all. If only the Azadi could kill all of them." Likho's jaw tensed as Delkran's image crossed his mind. "He corrupted me, he dragged me into that. I was too young, and I followed him. Spare me the memories." Palevan said as his breath sped up a bit. The topic certainly stressed him out. “You know what happens with those who drags-”

"But he was vital to us." Likho interrupted his words.

However, Palevan ignored him and deflected the topic once more. He was focused on convincing Likho by using the natural hatred that Dolmaris had towards _Ga'andaars_ . "Thing is, he liked to corrupt everyone. You may understand now why he was kicked from the town. We need to protect the youngsters from _creatures_ like that, with or without war. Some never come back from that... perversion. Plus, I had got my suspicions on him, anyway. It was a matter of time. Better to kill two birds from one shot."

Likho listened in silence. Protection. Perversion. Purity. That was all what this was about. The suspicion about Delkran being a traitor was an extra. Double checking for the Resistance's sake was not needed when it was about a _ga'andaar._ They had to be purged, immediately. Especially those that had dragged another into perdition. That had always been the unspoken rule between his people. A rule that kept lurking his nightmares since teenager; a strict, heavy rule to follow that somehow, it felt right and wrong at the same time.

"I imagine that, after stabbing me, the less you can do is to keep silent about this." Palevan said as Likho raised an eyebrow and frowned. "You can just say we found him dead. No special reasons. I don't want problems. This was something from the past, I'm not like him and I don't want to be marked for the rest of my life for a foolish thing I did back then. Better to put the dirt under the rug."

"Dirt?. A good man has died because you panicked for your reputation and you are calling this _dirt_?"

“Are you defending a traitor?” Palevan smirked imperceptibly, as his comment froze Likho, "He put the Resistance at risk. Good man?, are you defending a _ga'andaar_?"

Flustered, Likho frowned. "That has little to do in comparison with how much he provided to the Resistance"

“Do not tell me he dragged you...” Palevan left his sentence incomplete, as he saw Likho's reaction.

“Don't dare you to suggest such... sleaze”, he said, doing what Palevan wanted: to put the topic aside.

It was easy to distinguish the reason from the mere excuse. Likho had listened countless times the infinite variations of the same concept in his old town. _The only good Ga'andaars are the dead ones._

Dol-Intiqua Resistance had just lost not only a vital hideout, but also a balance scholar. The man had provided the Resistance many recipes of powerful bombs, and creative poison for using in their weapons. And on top of it, Delkran had been his friend. A friend whose ostracism finally he could understand, giving him a hard lesson, a warning.

Loneliness, pain, murder. The _ga'andaar's_ destiny. That was the Dolmari tolerance at its finest.

Without offering any help to Palevan, Likho took a shovel and dug a simple grave. There was a beautiful spot in the end of that place from where a clear landscape was visible. It was there where, once in a while, Likho used to find the scholar, taciturn and quiet as usual, admiring the view of what left of Intiqua-aba, still not eaten by the human Empire. It was the last thing that Likho could do for him.

"Really?" Palevan walked to him, pressing his shoulder with a contorted face. "Are you really going to use this precious time for burying a _ga'andaar?_. They deserve to rot outside, eaten by vultures, as the disgrace they are."

Likho prayed the few words that his gods demanded for their dead, and slowly, with icy eyes, he spat at him, "that time didn't look so precious to you when you decided to kill him."

 

After that tragedy, and once they returned to one of the most populated rebel bases, the resistance suffered a terrible strike. The main Dol-Intiqua bases were slaughtered, and its leaders murdered after long sessions of interrogation and torture. Only few, Likho between them, escaped just in time when the Apostles appeared with reinforcements in the horizon of the assault. The blood spilled in those lands tinged the nearby river; the chaos that had been settled free left a deep wound in the few survivors, who could not sleep for weeks without listening the heartbreaking screams of the massacre, still fresh in their memories.

After a couple of days, when they thought they were starting to recover from the blow, a second one happened; the tortured rebels had spoken too much. None hideout was safe anymore.

The operation had been so well executed that the Azadi wiped out almost completely the magical presence in the Westlands. The few remaining rebels chose to run away towards Marcuria or the Southlands, waiting to recover enough for contributing to the cause once again.

To Likho, that tragedy meant the realisation of his failure as a leader. This experience would mark him deeply, promising to himself to never take leadership never again in his life.

He still had many questions about the real traitor behind this tragedy. He hardly could believe that Delkran would have done such a thing. For that reason he remained a couple of months in the Westlands despite the rebel's immediate escape. He needed answers. And he was determined to find them.

For several weeks he lived in the dark forest of the South of Sadir, where many merchants and messengers stick to the route that connected the secondary cities of the Empire with the main one. With the skill of a professional assassin, he intercepted many letters between soldiers and commanders, discovering that the main responsible of the big attack had been Palevan, who had been working as a double agent for the Azadi for many years. Palevan's orders were clear, and all of them were satisfied successfully. He had to find the leak that allowed many rebels and magicals to avoid the cleansing process of Sadir, and give the Azadi all the intelligence related to the rebel strategies, their hideouts, and their future plans. He had to discover Delkran's vital hideout, one of the most important rebel contacts, and learn all the secret passages that connected rebel bases one another. All that information would allow a massive and multiple strike in every rebel base, destroying the whole system in a blow. Sadly, Palevan accomplished everything, with a slight trip in Delkran's death. Only one letter, signed by him, explained that the whole situation had been an outrage, that despite the dead, it ended as a success due to his ability of lying.

 

Likho's anger was hard to restrain after finding out these facts. All that performance of Palevan being uncovered had been a mere façade; one that Likho believed. How a Dolmari could help an Azadi to destroy his own people?. It was beyond his comprehension. And with that revelation, the regret of having doubts of his friend stroke him. Delkran's memory did not deserve such treatment.

Several weeks later, he was lucky enough to discover Palevan in the routes, riding a leapfur at high speed. He looked relaxed, without any bit of regret or something that could wonder he had been forced to do what he did.

Cool-hearted, Likho followed him into the middle of the forest, where he found a secret cabin. There, the traitor reunited with the main general of the Azadi Empire: the General Aslaf. And only there, when Palevan and the Azadi kissed, Likho could understand the whole tragedy. As natural as he had been taught since child, his lips moved alone in a poisonous whisper: It had been a _Ga'andaar_.

That moonless night, when the sun hid in the horizon and the only light around were the candles coming from the cabin's windows, Likho entered into the house hardly restraining the beast inside him. He was thirsty for revenge, but he had to choose the exact moment to release it.

Unsheathed daggers, he walked through the place without any care because the lustful sounds that guided him into the room masked his footsteps. He peered through the frame door, wishing for everything to be a mistake. He wanted to see no Dolmari inside, no evidence at all that his people had been doomed by one sole betrayal _creature_. But it was not the case. Even though the light of candles were faint, he could see the broad back of the Azadi, thrusting against blankets from which long, blue legs leant out, embracing the Azadi's hip.

This was the most evident confirmation he could ask for. A sin for his people, for the Resistance, and for all those dead that were now resting under ground.

Likho blinked and set free his ire.

He run towards the bed, and cut the commander's throat in a fast, violent movement. The man, unharmed and vulnerable, did not put any resistance. Likho threw the body aside, which was still choking blood, and looked at the Dolmari in disguise with mad eyes. Palevan had no time for reacting when the berserker yell of Likho paralysed him as it did his daggers once again in his shoulders.

“Traitor!.” Likho's voice echoed in the cabin, followed by the endless agony screams of the betrayer, asking for death.

Disfigured by wrath, Likho spent that night taking personal pleasure in skinning the man alive, bit after bit. It was the only way to revenge Delkran and the rebels, and find a personal little peace of mind. “ _You had to be a Ga'andaar_.” He kept whispering unconsciously in his own trance as he was taking off every bit of skin of the fainted man until death, slowly, reached his body.

 

It had been almost three months since the last rebel groups left their homelands, and it was time for Likho to do the same. The Azadi had increased their troops around the main city due to the General's assassination, and a new rule allowed humans to kill any Dolmari at sight. There was no room for movements anymore.

Before heading to Marcuria, Likho visited for the last time that shack in the distant mountains, where the lonely, sad grave was placed in the humming corner of the cold path, in the core of the Sorrow's Throat. He left there his modest offering - Palevan's bracelets, taken after the skinning process, and his remaining ear -, and sat for hours in that cliff edge observing the last remnants of Intiqua-aba. His feet were suspended above the abyss, tempting him to hop into the void

 

It was that primitive desire, or maybe it was only the result of his own traditions. Either way, jumping off into the nothingness seemed to be the easiest solution to a long chain of loss, pain, and mistrust. However, he shooed away that idea and kept thinking in what had happened since the moment he joined the Resistance. For first time in many months, he could reflect on causes and consequences, and give a fond thought to all those who could not survive. Among them, the first one in appearing in his mind was his own mother. She had survived many tragedies, but the last slaughter in one of those secret bases put an end to that luck. With her, his cousins and his uncle died too, alongside with all his rebel friends.

Likho still could feel that shiver inside his chest, a mixture of regret and endless sadness. It was the certainty that she was not part of this world any longer, and he had not been there to hold her hand.

He frowned at the landscape, without blinking as a couple of tears threatened him. He could not blame himself. In the moment the Apostles appeared in the horizon, they had no room for manoeuvre. He had only two choices: to run into his sure death, trying to reach that Azadi and complete his revenge, or save as many of his people as possible. The screams around him, the smell of fear in the air, magicals running aimlessly looking at him for leadership, forced him to choose the last one. Once again, he was choosing for his people's sake.

He took advantage of that chaos and fled with his people, leaving behind his only chance to kill that butcher. At least he had the solace of having dealt with the main traitor, a creature that was not going to put the Resistance, or what left of it, in danger anymore.

However, that wasted chance was difficult not to regret too. The image of the Apostle Alvane had kept appearing in his mind every night since the day that murderer killed his father. It was hard for him to accept that he had lost such an unique opportunity to settle account with the Azadi.

Now, there was nothing to do. He had to keep going with the Resistance, even though it was hard to say what motivated him. After the strikes, the Resistance was only a small group of scared people, too few to be a danger.

The Resistance was now but a shadow of what it had been, and despite its weakened shape, Likho personally had lost his own faith on it. He followed the same path just because changing was impossible, but it was hard to trust again in any rebel. More after Palevan's lesson. No human, or Zhid, or Dolmari would earn his trust again, and that was a promise he did to himself in his mother's name.

It had been a shock to find a traitor among the Dolmari. But he had the answer, that fit perfectly, but also hurt deeply. It had been what he had learnt from young age: _ga'andaar._ _Creatures_ of frivolous pleasure, unable to feel like people, to cry, to love, to keep loyal. _Creatures_ in disguise of Dolmari. _Creatures_ that could betray. If they were not put aside, far away from the true people, they had to die, with their skin taken off before giving them death. _Destroy them before they can corrupt_ , the wisest Dolmari elders used to say. These _creatures_ were condemned to isolation. But then, there was Delkran.

The gentle, taciturn man was everything but frivolous or selfish. As a _ga'andaar_ , he had been quite a fighter, dealing with hatred at both sides: from the Dolmari for not being True, from the Azadi for being just blue. Delkran could be anything but Likho admired his resolve, a man that kept on his feet without having anything to support him.

Likho sighed, exhausted. This war was taking a big toll on his soul. It began to snow, as if the weather wanted to match with his mood, with that abandoned shack, with the humble grave and the sublime, cold, sad atmosphere.

He lifted from the edge, and walked to the grave. He placed his hand over the snow, feeling the cold numbing his fingers. Delkran had been a brave man, facing the hatred that surrounded him with a calm, gentle attitude. It was impossible for Likho to think in his friend as a _ga'andaar_. What he had done for the Resistance would be remembered by him forever.

“May the gods stay with you, and guide you to the other side.” He whispered. “You have been my friend. I'll honour you until my last day.”

 

In the evening, he sailed to Marcuria. He remained on the prow, giving a last view to his homeland. Intiqua-aba, where the war was skinning the realm alive. It was hard for Likho to distinguish between the small relief of leaving those violent lands, and the calm wave of an incipient nostalgia for what had been lost. But it was not like it could matter. He kept walking to where the destiny would call him, without strength, without hope, with only the duty to honour his dead **.**

 

After several months, he disembarked in Shady Quay and gave his first steps to the firm ground. The splendour of the city did not surprise him, because his mind was still in the Westlands, mourning in silence.

From nowhere, a black bird flew over his shoulder, and as soon as it dropped a small paper from its beak, it flew away. Likho took the paper and read it. It had a drawing of a map, and the only word written in Na'ven was: _The journeyman inn_. Alone in a new city, clueless of where any rebel could be hidden, he followed the map. He entered into the tavern with certainty, and looked around. There were a couple of Dolmari in the bar, laughing between them; a Zhid with three humans in the table, and a black figure in a corner, giving him its back. The owner of the tavern approached him, and gave him a gentle pat. However, Likho tensed his whole body, and with a reflex, stopped her hand. “Hey, go easy, go easy, boy” she said, looking around. The clients had focused their attention on them, and a sudden silence increased the Dolmari's tension. “Nothing to see!, the child is lost and nervous. But he is fine.”

Her friendly reaction shocked him, and he only could manage to say a word, “Child?”

“Well, just look at you. You don't even have a beard. Now, stop making my clients tense” she put again her hand on Likho's shoulder, and pushed him gently to the corner while whispering, “We were waiting for you for a month. You need to talk with this person. I'll bring some wine, and probably something for you to eat. Ship food is horrible, isn't it?.”

The man sat in front of the dark figure and tried to guess who was his benefactor. The dark figure had its face covered with a long black hood, and his hands were hidden under the table. That person's size was smaller than a Dolmari, but bigger than a Zhid, so it had to be a human. By its side, the black bird was arranging some of his feathers, until it looked directly at him.

“Pft, you can't be discreet, can you?. I know being the big blue one makes the thing harder, but, hey, can't you just avoid your look of _I will kill you_ _by_ _taking your heart o_ _ut_ _of your body with my bare hands_?. You hurt people's feelings. “

The shady figure chuckled.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“Relax.” the light voice surprised Likho, “you are among friends. Or at least, comrades. This place is safer than the one you came from. We were waiting for you. We are the Resistance.” She said and took off her hood. “I lead the group in the south-east of Marcuria. We kept in contact with some that gave us news about the situation in the West. It was unfortunate. Hope you will find this land-”

“But you are a human” he interrupted her words, and frowned. The wrath, slowly, tensed his face.

“Um...” April scratched her nape. “Things are a bit different here. Not only magicals want things fair. There are many reasons for a human to join us: magical friends or lovers, personal sense of justice, idealism. And, well... I've done things that had allowed me to earn people's respect, so they offered me the leadersh-.”

“Ha.” Likho looked aside “this is just a fucking joke. The ones that kill us, that abuse us, that treat us like animals are the same that claim to be our saviours.”

“But not all hu-”

Likho beat the table, and the whole tavern focused once again on the Dolmari.

Just in time, Benrime approached the table, and put the food and wine on it. “You, child, better behave. Otherwise I'm going to kick your ass out of here. Now, eat and drink, your mood will improve.”

Likho looked at the owner, then the dish with meat and vegetables which steam reached his nostrils, mouthwatering as he swallowed **.**

The woman in front of him continued, “I'm sorry. You can eat. It must have been a hard travelling. And, well... my words were... inappropriate. I'm sorry about that too.”

The bird aside her spat a feather, “Well, they told us this one was going to be a jerk.”

“Crow!” she said opening wide her eyes. Likho glared the bird, who just flew away, sensing his life in danger. “Forgive him. You get used to him after a while.” she sighed. “by the way, I'm April Ryan. And you are...”

Likho humphed. “You led me here, as a supposed leader of the Resistance, and you don't know my name?”

“Well... I just wanted to- to make it look like a natural social interaction?. I guess that's too hard for you, Likho. Or do you prefer another name?”

“No. That suffices.” He said, and finally took a fork. His stomach was hurting with the hunger.

“Well, Likho, I guess we're going to be the best buddies ever.” April said cynically, and looked away through the window as the Dolmari started to eat.

* * *

 

Still holding hands, April pulled the man forcing him to return to bed, but the movement only ended in a soft shake that dragged Likho's mind into the present once again.

Sat on the edge, he looked at her and draw a tiny smile, a bit happy, a bit incredulous. “What now?” he asked in a warm-hearted, soft tone. A tone that only April was able to listen, and probably the only one who ever would.

“Why do you keep doing that? Rest inside here. The swamp is so cold on first hours in the morning.” She said, as he humphed. With lazy movements, Likho returned to bed and surrounded her with his arms, hiding their bodies under the blankets where a slow, marvellous world existed. It was made of calm breaths moving her small chest, of that feather-like texture of her skin against his, her strands caressing his throat, and her fingers running through his arm. It was one of those rare moments where a rebel was allowed to indulge in the appreciation of being alive, surrounded by treasures he had never expected to find in his life, and much less in a human, female shape. They were a treasure that he deeply knew that once lost would never come back.

“We all can see how this mighty man is _not_ a cuddler.” she whispered as he chuckled. She breathed inside Likho's neck and then he kissed her head. "I love you smell, Likho, did you know that?"

"You always keep telling me the same."

She smiled. Encouraged, April climbed a bit over him, to find his lips. As it had been happening in the last weeks, Likho did not reject her at all. Instead, he remained still, with a slight, almost unnoticeable tension in his muscles, expecting what he never used to initiate. It was an attitude that April found more notorious with each passing day, and even though she could see love through those amber eyes, her doubts started to take a sharper form.

She approached him, her lips slightly opened, never closing her eyes while sinking her fingers into Likho's hair. The man's expression was a portrait of self-punishment: an almost imperceptible frown, his lips shut tight, trembling feebly in doubt, a cease of his breathing for a couple of seconds. Small, almost invisible hints that had been hidden for long time ago, and now, they were reaching the surface one by one.

She stopped in front of Likho's face, until he opened one eye, curious for the delay of the unavoidable. They looked each other for a moment, silent, brushing with her fingers the birthmark in the man's left eye. Then, she smiled, and climbed a bit more onto Likho to kiss his forehead.

The disconcert reflected in his face made her chuckle. She had a thing for the wrong guys, hadn't she?. “Likho. Tomorrow will you departure to the Westlands?.”

“Mmhn. That was what we've planned. Check the situation, bring some intel, figure out what actions to take afterwards. Maybe join some sympathizer of the Resistance along the way.” he looked aside, a bit nervous. “I... I thought you didn't like to talk about these things in bed...”

“I don't. Still yet... I'm doing it.”

Likho observed April's mischievous look, and swallowed. It was that kind of look of somebody who knew too much for their own good. Something was wrong. “Are you implying something else?”

"Probably" she added, “Do you always understand why you are doing things you don't want to?”

He frowned, absolutely lost in the encrypted code. Or maybe, denying himself to understand.

April chuckled again, and hid her face in his neck, kissing Likho's sensitive places while running her hands to his hips. As a reflex, he took her hands gently, and made her stop for a second. It was a gesture as natural as unconscious. It was a gesture with a clear meaning that he kept hiding to himself and to April for a long time. It used to start with that sudden stop, and continue with the caressing of her hands, as if he were asking for forgiveness before such aggressive but not obvious movement. It was also a previous ritual to the greatest preparation that the Dolmari had to do. The preparation of his mind and body. It was the stop needed to swallow and reassure himself that he was not a _creature_. To him. To April. Every night. Every morning after.

Slowly, she took distance in the bed and lied on her side. She rested her chin in a hand, in silence, looking at him with piercing eyes, yet gentle ones. Likho only could look down, observing the contrast of April hair half spread on the pillow, her delicate line along the curve of her neck, and her body shaping the blankets over her.

A long, dread silence.

“Likho” she said in her softest tone. “Silly Likho. How long would it take for you to realise?"

His eyes locked with hers, his whole body, now without any subtlety, tensed all at once, and terror paralysed his features. The word appeared once more in his mind, the treason of Palevan, the fear, a family long time scattered around the world or dead, the consonants and vowels of his disgrace.

_Creature of lust._

“What… What do you mean?”. He said, not sure of his own words, not sure if he was playing the fool even with himself.

She extended her hand close to him, and caressed his cheek, playing with that strange, beautiful birthmark. “Hey, it's fine. Don't look at me that way.”

Silence.

A long, bitter silence that lasted ages, and at the same time, stopped all the years. A silence with wonders and doubts and regrets. A silence so noisy that it was hard for Likho to understand where all that racket was coming from. A silence that turned the gentle and encouraging caresses into paths of ripped off skin from which poisoned lava oozed slowly.

_Ga'andaar._

Likho closed his eyes, tightly. A mist of questions surrounded him, an ocean of half truths and bad excuses, suddenly, seemed to make sense. An explanation, still veiled by fear, started to acquire a blurry shape. It was just the beginning.

“I am... not... sure... about what you mean.” he added.

April sighed, caressing his lips with her slender fingers. She arranged some locks that were falling over Likho's face, and brushed his birthmark with her thumb, “Me neither. But I know we have to stop-” Likho opened his eyes in surprise. “-I've been noticing time ago some... things. You don't have to put yourself in this place. Besides, you are heading to the West. Who knows when will be the next time that we can see us again. Maybe you can figure this out during that time. So...” she sighed, “...we have to break”.

Stoic, as he had been the last hours looking through the windows in the edge of the bed, Likho's eyes did not blink. He was not that type or person. Even though his eyes burnt. Never blinking. Not even when he was leaving Intiqua-aba, not even when the Resistance had been almost destroyed. “Hey, we are good friends. That'll never change.”

Perhaps that was what he needed in that moment. Pressing his lips in a fine line, Likho swallowed, and hugged her with devotion, with pain, with the notion that something right was about it despite the inner child crying inside him. His chest shook for a second, but he never blinked. He was not that type of person.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is interested in betaread this fic from now on, I will appreciate it deeply. Take into account that English is not my main language, so I feel more confident when someone can check my writing before publishing.   
> If you are interested, you can send me a PM to exchange mail address.

A thin breeze moved his hair on his face, and many strands annoyed his eyes. He ran his fingers through them, and gathered them in a low tail; the best way to keep his hair under control for the long trip he was going to start. 

That day, the docks were particularly calm. In Shady Quay there were only a small group of magicals and humans close to one of the ships, the rest of the people were too focused on the fights happening in the market, to get the last product with the cheapest price.

He had chosen the group thoroughly, looking for the most cautious and disciplined rebels to accompany him in this expedition. Of course, all of them were Dolmari, as it should be. Nobody but his own people would appreciate to return to their lands, or understand the dangers of the Empire infecting their country, and on top of it, nobody but them were nostalgic about the sunny breeze in Intiqua-aba's beaches or the calm sound of the trees around the dark forests where now Sadir was built, or its sad, cold snow in the mountains of the North. The Dol-Intiqua charm was calling its children.

A gentle hand touched his shoulder, forcing him to turn around. It was a Samare, taller than him and as beautiful as most of her kind. With graceful gestures, she bowed at him while April appeared behind her, with Na'ane and Chawan by her side

“She is Shepherd” April said, with a hand on the Samare's arm, “She's the leader of small groups in the East of Marcuria, is a good connection for the Resistance. Probably she'll be around for a while. The East has been calm during this time, and she will be a big resource for the cause here. We can learn mutually.”

“The East, huh?”. Likho simply nodded, and accepted a bag with medicine that Na'ane gave to him.

Shephard tried to engage conversation, “We are recruiting many young Zhids there-”

Likho snorted. “Are you filling the empty spaces with children?”

“They are willing to help the cause.” Shepherd crossed her arms, and stood upright, showing at the Dolmari that she was even taller than what he expected. “And I wouldn't reject any help we can get.”

“That doesn't mean we can use any ammo.”

“And what do you suggest?, reject them?. Zhids are sharper and more agile than any Dolmari. They may be not the strongest one in a fight face to face, but they are the best spies we can get.”

Likho twitched his mouth, bad memories were always flitting around his mind when words such as _spy_ came up. Instinctively, he looked at Na'ane, who silent, and intimidated by Likho's aura, averted her eyes into the sea. “The problem with the spies is always about who they are working for, not how they look like.”

“Because a Zhid will be more eager to work for the Azadi Empire than for their own people?” Sarcastically Shephred added.

Likho passed by the Samare, taking the last bags of cargo and throwing it into the ship, “I've seen many things.”

Shepherd was going to add some words, but April's hands on her back interrupted her. “Meh, don't mind him. He is always suspicious about everything. I've met him that way".

The cargo was ready in the ship, the supplies would be enough for two long travels to those far lands, and his small group of Dolmari were mostly ready to leave Shady Quay. He was the last one in the docks, looking silently at April in invitation. She stepped forward, and both of them shared a warm, tiny smile. The few witnesses of the event looked sneakily at them, not without being puzzled.

“Take care, big boy.” She said.

Likho chuckled lowly. Maybe it was just those silly words, maybe it was her warm look, but she always made him feel like that, like an equal, like a real, whole person. “I'll do.”

“Come back in one piece. And don't hesitate to return if the situation is out of control. We can't afford to lose more people. I can't afford... that.”

Likho hugged her strongly, and pressed a long kiss on her head. “You keep kicking Azadi asses. And don't get killed by them.”

“Don't worry” She smirked.

 

The trip was boring most of the time. The ship was travelling through a gentle sea, and even though storms were always a threat, it was hard to believe this trip could find one. Or at least, that was what Tun Luiec had told them. She was the captain of the ship and was well known between sailors as one with the highest sensitivity for reading the ocean's behaviour. For her, the sea was a creature alive, and its movement was its breathe, easy to see when a crisis would come.

The captain had worked with April time ago. It seemed that their business had not ended in the most satisfactory way, but after some years of forgiveness, and as a gesture of gratitude, not clear if for that time ago, or for all the help that April was giving to many Dolmari groups, the captain had joined her efforts to the Resistance. She worked as a covered messenger between docks around Arcadia, bringing and sending cargo and letters to different groups of rebels.

Likho did not mind her. She was Dolmari, and that fact inspired him a bit of trust. Just a bit. Palevan had been quite an example to never forget.

 

That night, when everyone was sleeping in their hammocks, a hoarse hum interrupted their rest. Quickly, the sound grewstronger, and the curious doubt reflected in their faces changed into despair when they heard the Captain's alarm shout. It was a cloudship.

Harpoons from the flying machine pierced part of the prow and immobilized the ship. Some ropes fell from the azadi vehicle and allowed soldiers slide down.

In a blink of an eye, the ship was full of heavy armoured soldiers whose footsteps echoed in the hatch.

Likho shouted to his men and women to prepare for fighting, and in a chaotic rush they wielded weapons and faced the intruders with resolve, even though they all knew this resistance could not end but in death.

Swords against shields surrounded by the smell of blood and gunpowder lasted for several minutes until the Azadi soldiers overcame the whole crew. When Likho saw they were losing, he allowed his mind to go wild as a last resource of strength, trying to kill as many Azadi as he could until his own death. However, when the soldiers realised the Dolmari was in a berserker state, they teamed up and forced him to face down on the ground, fastening his wrists. It seemed that such ferocity had granted him a bit of respect as a warrior and gave him permission for living a bit more, even though he hardly could say if such a thing was something to be grateful.

When the last prisoner was threw into the cloudship cargo, the Azadi captain observed the view on the ship's hatch: half of the Dolmari crew lied dead, and despite some of his soldiers' wounds, none of them was at risk. The surprise factor had been vital in this assault.

Satisfied with the result, the man smirked and ordered to continue their route: Ge'en camps.

 

The first thing they did with the new prisoners when they arrived Ge'en was to isolate them all. Not far away one from the another, but enough for not being able to talk to or see each other. For some, the isolation did not last longbecause they died during the first week, due to the untreated festering wounds. However, not all of them were lucky enough.

After ten days of isolation, the screams of the youngest Dolmari were heard. The boy tried not to speak, and resisted for three days the torment and pain that kept shattering his voice, but in the end he spoke. He screamed that he only knew a little about the mission itself; the expedition group's leader and his second-in-command were the only ones that could fill them with details. He also added that both of them had died in the assault, but the Azadi did not believe him. Although the boy tried not to talk more, another day of torture was enough to slip Likho's name from his lips.

And Likho could not blame him. The boy had tried his best. Torture was not an easy thing to endure. He knew it by first-hand.

It was a matter of hours when a whole group of Azadi soldiers appeared in his cell. He clenched his teeth. It was his turn.

They started with plain punches and kicks that made Likho laugh. He had been passed through more, more than that in his childhood. It only bored the soldiers.

In the second day, they tried harder. Having forced a lack of sleep in the prisoner, they threw buckets of cold water at him and stabbed small daggers with acid in his joints. There it was when Likho started to fear himself.

Palevan's image was there, in his mind, making him stronger. He was not going to be like that repulsive creature. He was not going to betray his people. He was not going to betray April.

During the third day, the Azadis brought a small device that looked like a box. He knew about it only by rumours. In the Resistance's circles, it was said that Azadi had developed a mobile system that allowed them to accumulate enough electricity to produce a sudden discharge that could paralyse an Elgwan. Unfortunately, Likho experienced on his own flesh, not once, but many times, the confirmation of such rumours. The electrical shock caused him convulsions that he barely could remember, having only shattered memories of those moments. The confusion in the small periods of consciousness was used to force him to talk but his uncooperative attitude caused them to take more extreme methods.

The new technique was to grab Likho's hair, and push his head into a barrel full of sea water that they had placed at his side. They tended to keep his head under water more time of what he was able to restrain his breath, but never enough to die. When he finally could breathe again, fighting with his lungs as he panted desperately for air, they used the damned device one more time. The water all over his body made the shock even worse, and his breath was suspended for seconds, allowing a new level of suffocation. For hours, Likho was unable to pant even though his body needed it desperately.

Still, the interrogations were not successful. They tried to force him to speak by using the torture of another of his comrades, so the guilt could force him to talk. It was not only his body what the Azadis wanted to break, it was also his soul. He was turning himself into a betrayer by keeping silent or not.

During those cycles of torture, they kept calling him by names: _Creature. Animal. Savage._ They believed his silent stubbornness was another clear evidence that he was anything but a beast. The phrases and words were repeated countless times in any torture session, to the point that Likho was too exhausted to resist them, to be angry at them, and somehow, they slid into his weakened mind.

Day after day, the certainty of being an animal wishing for death and the revulsion of knowing himself close to betray the Resistance were locked into a brutal fighting in his mind. He did not want to talk just to put and end to his pain, and turn himself into the selfish creature he always feared to become, but it was impossible for him to keep maintaining his sanity, even though April's image was there, present in his tired vision. In the weakest moments, he prayed for every god and goddess to give him strength, not to lose his true skin, not to turn into _one of those_.

Death as a whole Dolmari before anything else.

 

After three weeks of hell, the famous Apostle Alrik appeared in his cell; there were no enough prayers to give Likho the certainty that he was going to die with his lips sealed.

The Apostle was in a divine trip, and his businesses in Ge'en were of another nature. However, when the man knew that some Dolmaris were under interrogation in the island, he could not help but offering his skills in the task.

The man had been always known as the _twisted Apostle_ , had a acquired taste in torturing Magicals in general, and Dolmaris in particular. He even developed new methods of torture that wrote in a brief compendium, and its copies turned into a must in any high-ranked azadi's library.

The Apostle was not strange for Likho. He knew him from rumours, and he had seen him once, during the broad attack to the Rebel bases in Intiqua-aba. The man was older than most Apostles, and that was a terrifying characteristic, not only because it meant he was hard to kill, but also because he had turned into an experimented torturer over the years .

That day Likho was brutally hit, and the final ultimatum was when the mad Apostle took out Likho's eye with his bare hand and, disgusted by the amount of blood that spilled, he used a torch inside the empty socket, getting a satisfying pleasure by the breathless scream that resounded in the whole room.

The pain, the violent pressure, the burnt smell of blood and flesh, the certainty that such torture would never end. Likho's memory of that moment became blurry in images but sharper in pain and despair. He screamed for the Apostle to stop, his surrender echoing in a shattered voice. He was prepared to talk. Or at least, for a brief moment, he just gave everything up. It had been a full month of torture and he just wanted to die.

He barely could remember moving his lips, repeating endlessly Palevan's name and the position of each Resistance bases placed in Intiqua-Aba. Probably inspired by his own Gods, or by April's memory, or maybe as a consequences of the madness induced by the agony, he only could speak about that time, while recalling those days in the Swamp City, with the sun setting down quietly, and April by his side, observing with him the golden colours of the sky. The past and the present mixed to the point to disappear both in a sharp, piercing pain in middle of his head.

Alrik's patience ended when after a couple of hours, Likho kept talking in Dola've, unable to understand a single word. Furious, he ordered to the soldiers to get rid of this rare specimen, knowing that it would do more good dead than alive.

With calm steps, the Apostle and the rest of the soldiers left the room, giving Likho, for first time, a long moment where everything was quiet. Surrounded by such deadly silence, Likho could listen his lungs working tortuously, as a sharp pain was penetrating his brain. He also could start perceiving the fresh blood all over his body, and tried to touch his empty eye socket, but his body did not react. It was extremely weakened and no muscle would respond. He only could close his eye and fainted from exhaustion.

 

After minutes that felt like hours, part of his consciousness returned, even though his body was still numbed. He clearly heard the cell's door being opened again, and struggling to keep himself in this world, he could perceive a spray over his face. Without giving him a moment to recover, a soldier sat him against the wall and forced him to drink a dense liquid that tasted like acid. In a couple of minutes, his confusion and exhaustion turned into nauseas as his breath was more and more difficult to keep.

“Move this _thing_ close to the factory, the administrator will want to analyse its blood after dying. It won't take much.”

Hard, violent hands grabbed his hair and arms, and pushed him outside the cell. His muscles were still reluctant to move, so he was just dragged along the corridors without putting any resistance, until the smell of sea salt and fresh air recomposed his spirit a bit. Just a bit. Soon after, he was thrown into a pile of dead Dolmari that smoothed his impact. Like one of them, his own body slid in the pile until reaching the base. Half of his face was buried in sand, and for a short moment, he only could felt the last, warm sunbeams of the sunset over his painful skin as the foul stench tainted his nostrils. He opened his eye, and even though his vision was unfocused, he could recognize his people. Or what had left of them. Some were still agonizing, praying and moaning as death was getting closer. Among a pile of bodies, he could distinguish one of his group: the older Dolmari that accompanied him into this failed mission. The man was resting against the pile, coughing blood, struggling with his breath. He was greener that any Dolmari could get.

He looked at Likho and arched his eyebrows. “Are you still alive?. Are you planing to _stay_ alive?” Likho hardly could frown, and only moved his unfocused eye towards him. “I still can do something. But I have the damned plague. It looks the same for you, but you are not bleeding like all of us. Well, not much. One or two days. That's all what I have. But you may have more... you have to tell them. I listened the Apostle. The young boy spoke. They are going to attack the East of Marcuria, the less protected group. Can you resist this last trip to inform this?”

Hardly knowing how or why, Likho groaned long and deep, and with a tortuous slow movement he knelt. He had to breath slowly for a while, too shocked by the pain along his body. He looked at his hands that were supporting part of his weight, as his vision started to get focused. His fingers were dark blue, almost black, and swollen; he was unable to close them or even move them. His hands were like a pair of bags with small, tiny pieces of bones. For a second he wondered how he would be able to fight again. However, he did not waste much time on those thoughts, and focused on April. That was all what he could think. That was all what he _had_ to think.

The older man sighed strongly, and got up on his feet. With the exception of his colour, his body and face were unharmed, which was a clear sign of having skipped torture. He probably had been put aside once the soldiers knew that Likho was the main in command. However, his face looked wasted away, with dark circles under his eyes, and his cheekbones standing out as if he would have been starving for years. They had done something to him.

Likho tried to get up as well, but his body kept not responding. In several attempts, he just fell on the ground, moaning due to the failure and pain. Knowing that it was going to take a while for Likho to move, the man put the younger Dolmari on his back, and carried him close to the docks, where two cloudships were going to sail the following morning.

It was easy to reach the beach; the Azadi thought that no Dolmari would be in a decent shape to escape from the camp; however, they could thanks to Amada's blessings and the night's darkness.

Sneaking into the vehicle, they went straight to the cargo section and rested between crates. Immediately they fell asleep, resting their damaged bodies most of the night. Only the movement of the cloudship sailing broke their sleep.

The older man sat against a crate, coughing blood in his hand as he looked at Likho. The younger man was completely collapsed in the ground, observing him back with his unfocused yellow eye.

“Hey. Boy, this will take like a week. I won't live that much. Use my body if you get some troubles here. But you need to tell them. You _have_ to.” The man said as Likho nodded in painful silence, and fall asleep again.

* * *

 

The sound of sleepy seagulls mixed with the smell of fish, sea salt, and the cold breeze chilling his burning skin were unmistakable signs of his arriving. Likho opened his eye, but it took him a long while to realise where he was, everything was too dark. His eye socket was festering, same as some other wounds on his body; his broken hands were impossible to move without crying of pain, and the fever was eating him up. He knew that was the end. He was not going to survive this, but before leaving this hell of a world, he only wanted to see April once more, to feel her arms, to heard her voice, to smell her. The thought gave him enough strength to pull himself out of the ship.

It was midnight, and the town's streets were dark, decorated with tiny candles in every cross. With the last of his will, he dragged his body along the Docks until falling into a small boat that was used by the rebels. It was impossible for him to swim, to row, to do anything but dying. To close his eye would mean the end, so he kept fighting against that agonized drowsiness, in that boat, alone, praying to the Balance, to Amada, and to his dead family. He was closer than ever, and still too far away, after so much pain and endurance. The certainty that he was going to die there made him despair, and some tears run through his burning cheeks.

_April. April. April._

He did not want to die that way. Not without seeing her one more time.

“Oh, for the Balance. Likho! What happened to you?”.

The voice came from nowhere, and it was hard for him to focus his eye and see that pale woman with her dark, short hair. She looked horrified, but he did not mind. His Gods had listened and had granted him his last wish. Her voice and smell surrounding him, and her gentle fingers trying to caress where the skin was not damaged were the last boost of energy he needed to finally whisper, “They'll attack the East. Defend them. Apostle Alrik... Keep Dolmari away from me. I may have the plague.” he said before closing his eye and allow himself to die.

* * *

 

With hands wearing gloves and her face covered completely, except for her eye, Na'ane changed Likho's bandages. Since the moment he returned to the base, she had been cleaning every festering wound, giving him medical concoctions in small drops, and using all her magical energy to heal the man. His wounds as well as the fester were already under control, but her main worry was the Plague. It was a good sign that the man's skin did not turn green, and he never coughed blood; however, it was a precaution measure to keep him isolated from the rest of the Dolmari rebels. It was almost certain that, after several days of being stable, the man had developed resistance to it. Or if he was not already, it seemed that his useless magical nature was working for him once again. It was not the first time that his dull, latent powers helped him to stay alive, hastening his natural healing rate. In any case, it was for the best not to take unnecessary risks. The Dolmari would remain isolated until the end of his fever.

By Na'ane side was April, caressing Likho's kneel over the blankets, or running her fingers alongside his arm, avoiding his bandaged hands. It was a gentle connection with him, to keep him stay in this world.

“This must have been a traumatic experience. Whatever he lived to reach this point will change him. I'm not sure who is going to awake.” Na'ane said with a muffled voice, peering April through the small holes in her shroud. “I hope you are aware of it”.

 

A couple of days later, he opened his eye, and saw several hurtful, glowing lines everywhere. It had a pattern of long bands of shadow. He closed tightly his eye to sharp his vision, and only then he realised it was the water under the floorboard of the corridor, passing across his open door, reflecting on the ceiling. It added a quiet, relaxing touch to the atmosphere of his lonely room. His tension disappeared when he recognized the rebel base.

Then, he focused on the shape of his own body. He only could see through his right eye, and curious for knowing what was under the thick bandage over his left eye, he tried to touch it. However, lifting an arm triggered a piercing pain all along it, that made him desist. When he tried to move his fingers he could perceive the twisted shape of them and exhaled in pain and disappointment.

Slowly, he turned his head to the left, hating the reduction of his vision field. When he was going to swear at the Azadis, he looked at the woman sat in a chair by his side, with her head against the wall, sleeping. It was a surprise, a blessing. His pain was forgotten for a moment. He wanted to touch her, and lead by the habit, he extended his bandaged hand as a piercing pain stopped him in the same instant.

“April...” he whispered instead.

It was all what she needed. In a second, she opened her eyes, and went closer. “Likho. Hey, you woke up!. How do you feel?.”

He just sighed. It was obvious. She smiled ashamed, and caressed Likho's forehead. It was hard for her to choose where to touch in a body so damaged. Every place in that Dolmari had been hit or broken.

Relaxed by the calm movement of April's thumb, Likho closed his eye. “The East?” he said, swallowing hardly.

April took a glass of water that was next to his bed, and helped him slowly to drink a bit. “Don't worry about that. Shepherd, Chawan and three groups went to inform the place before the assault. We saved them. All of them. Your... pain... Everyone's pain and death haven't been in vain.”

She pressed a wet napkin over Likho's lips, and kept caressing his head. He looked so unlike him, so weak and destroyed.

“The plague... am I-?” he said without strength.

“No, you are fine. Na'ane said you are fine. Everyone is safe around you now.”

“So... I won't die...” he said disappointed, and fell asleep again.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter did not have betareader. I asked some sentences on the internet, but not all of them were answered, so I would appreciate a lot if you can point me out any mistake or weird sentence. Help me to offer a decent fic to the community :P  
> Thank you very much. And I hope you can enjoy this.

After three months, Shepherd returned from the East. The operation had been successful, and the Apostle and his soldiers only had found an empty settlement. Half of those rebels went to the North of Marcuria, mainly kids and families that did not wish to fight any longer. The other half followed her to the South and joined the Enclave. The mission had been not only a success but also an excellent boost for everyone's morale. 

The first thing Shepherd did once she put a foot in the dock was to check Likho. She had left the Enclave with an almost dead man, and even though she managed to have some news in the distance, she wanted to be sure by inspecting him personally, peering through his darkness. And she was right, many things had changed in him.

The scars on the Dolmari were one of them. Although he already had many along his body when he joined the Rebels in Marcuria, none had passed through a festering process. Those which did it, were more visible and transmitted its painful nature in their twisted shape. However, his hands and eye was what concerned Shepherd the most. 

The burnt eye socket and the reduction of his field of vision was going to be a problem for a close combat fighter like him. His hands, still wrapped in heavy bandages, would need a particular future training in order to relearn its movements once again. 

Beyond Likho's wounds, Shepherd could not miss his voice. It had changed into a deeper and hoarser tone. 

However, the most alarming feature for her was Likho's behaviour. A behaviour that, according to some rumours that had reached her ears during the trip, was the starting point of bigger and more complicated troubles.

It began painfully, right after Likho's consciousness came back.  Any strong sound that could be remotely associated with armoured footsteps triggered a massive tremble all along his body. Sometimes, the stress was so unbearable, that he simply passed out in his bed. 

When he was strong enough to get up from it, the trembling episodes changed into an alienated routine. 

As usual, he was the first one in awakening in the Enclave, but in contrast with his previous self, he did not leave his room immediately. On the contrary, he remained sat in the edge of the bed, looking with his unfocused eye at the door, stacking piles and piles of nervousness. He knew he was in the Enclave, but his ears fooled him. He could listen the cloudship in the distance, his men and women crying in an unfair battle, the door of his cell opening once day more, the steps, the pain. Present and past had lost their division line. In an unstoppable in-crescendo rate, his breathe went messier over time. At some point, he folded his hands and started to repeat endlessly many dolmarian words, as if he were praying for sanity. He had to find a way to adapt to his new reality, brutally shaped by Ge'en. He had to. 

 

After several hours of restraining the storm of chaos in his mind, he could pull himself together and leave the room with a limping pace. A half year of the same, torturing routine was enough for him to surpass the first terrible hours of each day and go straight out from his room during the morning. It had been a fast recovery, almost a miracle, considering the deep scars in his soul. However, it was just on the surface. It was not a recovery per se, it had been a twisted evolution of the process. What had allowed him to reduce his reactions, it was also what had increased his aggressiveness.

 

Getting over his fears was not the only struggle during that time. The worst part was to recover his hands movement and to train again with weapons. His healed bones did not work in the same way they used to. They had lost their agility, the muscles had been damaged, and his reduced field of vision did not make the learning process easier. Ire and frustration grew stronger day after day. Resentment was feeding his soul; resentment that, certainly, had not started that day in Ge'en, but it had went wild since then.

And this was Shepherd's mainly worry.

His personality never had been considered a gem inside the Resistance, but this experience had disfigured it completely. His grumpiness and constant hatred were all the time targeting any human, no matter if they were part of the Resistance. As an obvious result, most of them started to fear him, and preferred to stay far away from his sight. His nerves were extremely sensitive, and any sudden sound or  _wrong word_ could be the initial sparkle of a living, tremendous bomb.

Perhaps the only exception was April, the anchor in his madness of endless ire. His hatred tended to smooth at her sight, and a small sentiment of self-disappointment and guilt filled his chest instead. It was a guilt built by all those bad decisions he took during his life, the weight of what he could not changed, and that concealed voice in the background of his mind telling him that things could have been better if he had not survived. 

 

That evening he was in the Enclave's ring, an underground big room that had been built soon after the Rebels took the base. It had a broad training area, dummies scattered everywhere to practice with, a section with weapons to stockpile them, and even a corner with precarious benches to observe others' training or simply to take a breath. 

As usual, Likho had left his room earlier than anyone. He did not waste time in eating and went straight to the ring in order to practise with his daggers at some dummies; there was so many things to test while getting used to his left side and its new lack of vision. With sweat on his forehead and neck, and his white hair stuck on his skin, he kept stabbing the dummies for hours, while the rest of the Rebels started to appear to practice their daily routine.

Focused on his left side, Likho was looking for the differences he could perceive when getting close to a dummy. However, any attempt of stabbing ended in failure. His old smooth and precise movements were now hasty and messy. His recovered fingers filled his attacks with hesitation, the fear of his daggers falling on the ground from his trembling hands was always there. 

Every missed stab, each piercing pain felt across his palms made his ire grow more and more, feeding it with blurry memories of Ge'en's tortures. Despite the resentment, the anger, the strength of will put in all those painful movements, he kept failing blow after blow. Failure. Always failure.  _When would he get used to it?._

Seventeenth time trying to hit the dummy, and still yet he could not figure out how to be as he used to. His left side was a heavy burden. 

Magic, sharpening his ear, feeling the movement. He tried every technique that his imagination could craft, but nothing worked. Each movement ended in an unavoidable, clear, and painful failure. 

Frustrated, he dropped his daggers, and throw the dummy against the wall. He kicked it, and punched the wall as he clenched his teeth. His fingers crunched with the hit, and the pain crossed his whole body making him groan. He was useless. He was unworthy. He had survived for nothing. A burden for everyone else.

And in his moment of biggest weakness, his mind brought him back those Azadi's voices once again:  _animal, beast, useless creature, blue thing, monster._ His mind was quick in resuming the list:  _Ga'andaar._ It was always in the back of his mind.  The damned, complex word torturing him.

“Don't give up.”

A raspy voice brought him back into reality. He observed the human who had spoken shyly, maybe trying to find a way to reconnect with the not-so-angry old Likho, or perhaps due to some sympathy at the sad, pathetic image he was displaying. It was pity for what he had been once, and he will never be again. A pity that no human had toward his father, to his mother, to his old self when he was a mere child. 

He observed the man with his only, clumsy eye, its pupil contracted in a small dark point: a predator's sight. Something had just been awoken inside him with those poisoning words:  _Not giving up_ . 

Words coming from a fucking human, same as those who had done this to him, same as those who destroyed his people. Words telling him to get over with it. To deal with it. 

A. Fucking. Human. 

What did this human know about giving up?. About enduring long enough? About surpassing the limits of pain that a soul can resist?.

In that moment he could perceive it: the wild creature set free as he approached the man. His footsteps echoed with the drown fury of his dead people, and as if it were a sudden phantasmagorical phenomena, Likho's aura turned into darkness, fire, and fear. 

The Magicals in the training zone stopped their movements all at once, and focused their attention on the radical perturbation of the sir that they felt. Surprised by their magical fellows reactions, the human rebels looked puzzled at them, wondering what was happening. In a second, everyone watched Likho, who took the man from his shirt's lapels and shook him violently. In a sparkle of sanity, the Dolmari knew what he was ready for, and before regretting it, he threw the human against the wall. He turned on his heels, attempting to leave the place, to avoid a tragedy... but unfortunately,  _he heard it._

“Fucked up creature”, the man whispered while scratching his neck, barely getting up from the floor. 

That was probably the last words he said with his teeth. In a blink of an eye, Likho leaped at him and punched him as a yell of pure hatred filled the air, “What have you just said?!” 

From a corner of the training ring, Bachim, who had been filling the stocks with new supplies of weapons, ran into the fight to control the Dolmari. He took Likho's arms and pushed him far away from the knocked out man. His movements were as spectacular as daring to the point to inspire a massive gasp from all the witnesses, who feared for the consequences that it could bring. 

Blinded with anger, Likho took his daggers from the ground and focused his predatory pupil on the Captain.

Bachin shook his head in disbelief, “Really, boy?. Calm your fucking shit down.  _Now_ .”

“Of course. As it couldn't be of any other way. Humans protecting humans. What should I expect?. I am the filthy _creature_.”

This time, Likho attacked without restraining himself. Unable to fight back, Bachim dodged the first attacks until a fallen dummy made him trip. The opportunity was perfect for Likho to take the man and throw him against a corner. There was no way for Bachin to run away beyond Likho's blind side. 

Quickly, the Dolmari jumped onto the Captain and pressed his daggers against the man's throat, looking at him in a trance. Fragments of memories kept coming and going out from his mind while the blades were marking that skin slowly. Likho could see himself being forced to remain under water, beyond his limit, and a second later, he could observe his blue, tensed hands trembling due to the painful pressure he was doing on the dagger's pommels. Still yet he could not wait for tasting the future pleasure to simply cut the Captain's neck. 

_ Vengeance, wrath, chaos.  _

His berserker mind state did not allow him to realise that his pressure was surpassing the limit; the human's skin finally was giving in, and some threads of red blood started to run along the neck. It was impossible to stop thinking in the Apostle Alrik; turning the whole situation into a more dangerous one. He had started to wonder who that human was: a rebel?, the Apostle?, his father's murderer?. The present and the past were so mixed that were dragging him mad. 

He was going to put an end to that human life, when a massive blow coming from his left hit him. He rolled over the ground, and before he could recover from the impact, he saw April sat on him, fasting his arms and pressing her staff against his neck. The thought of April being one of them angered him, but it lasted just a second. A second that ended when he finally could heard her voice. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Likho?. We can't kill each other.”

Whatever had been awoken minutes ago, disappeared in a blink of an eye. His pupil became relaxed and without saying a word, he looked aside, surrendered, ashamed, defeated. 

Failure. He was always a failure. 

 

That night he kept turning around in his bed, unable to sleep. Without any thought that could help him to relax, he went out from his room and walked downstairs to the practising ring. If he was not going to rest, at least he had to do something useful, and by that time, nothing could be more useful than getting all the training he could.

He took three dummies and placed them around himself: his right, his front, and his left. He worked on the perception of the distance, something that was not natural anymore. After a while of hitting and stabbing the dummies, he noticed a quiet and silent presence by his left, outside the ring. It was a shadow staying there, breathing, maybe studying when it was the best moment to attack him, perhaps it was just laughing at the sight of such lame Dolmari. The thought was enough to fuel his anger, and in a fast unpredictable movement, he ran into the shadows with his daggers up, and caught the secret figure with its guard down.

Despite the weak, trembling lights of the place, he could recognized that constitution immediately, and frowned at the same moment he stopped his blades around that neck.

“Hey, It's me” she whispered as she ran her fingers gently along Likho's wrists to put his weapons down. “You are getting good. You knew I was here for a while, didn't you?”

He looked at her, surrendered, and after a long moment of silence he whispered with sadness, “For.. forgive me”. It was hard to decide if he was apologizing himself for aiming his daggers against her, or for what had happened early that day, or maybe it was just for his useless stubbornness in existing. She caressed Likho's cheek with a hand, while with the other took Likho's daggers from his shaking fists. “I should have died... I'm of no use now... and a danger for everyone.” He whispered with a waving tone.

“No. Be kind with yourself, Likho.” she pulled him against her and hugged him. Likho appreciated the gesture and returned the hug burying his face in that small, fragile, and pale neck. How a person could care for someone like him, so dirty, so twisted, so perverted. He kissed her forehead and pressed his cheek against April's shoulder. 

“This will take time, big boy. Sure. But you are strong. You'll find a way. I trust in you.”

He sighed, and in silence, he squeezed her.

* * *

After the violent episode, most Rebels, and mainly humans, kept far away from the Dolmari. They were worried about the strange instability he had shown once, and they did not want to become his first  _true_ victim. The only humans that kept treating him on a daily basis were April and Bachim, who without holding any grudge, encouraged Likho to learn many fighting techniques that he taught to him personally. It seemed that the Captain could understand what was happening in Likho's mind. And maybe it was the case; Bachin's past was full of blood, death, pain, and regrets. 

This gesture of companionship, at first perceived with mistrust by the Dolmari, turned into the small bond that remained for years between both men; a gesture of respect and mutual understanding. 

Although Likho's instability lingered on for a couple of years, it never escalated to a dangerous point such as the one that almost got Bachim killed. 

Every time Likho was found in a heated argument, which was common due to the tension that Rebels had to deal with every day, he forced himself to follow a set of actions in order to cool down his temper. It was not an elaborated ritual, but it was enough to make him stop. When his daggers were unsheathed, and the thought of killing whoever was at his front was hard to control, he used to ask himself a single question: would such death mean a significant loss for the Asadi?. He wanted to harm as much as possible those fucking gh'azi. It was the best way to save all that anger for later. There was always an in-coming war in which, some day, he would focus all that restrained energy.

However, the impetuous need of killing used to remain like an untreated festering wound. So he acquired the habit of sharpening weapons. He started with his skinning kit, using oils and stones on the blade's surface, cleaning the dry blood and checking its hafts.  Once it was ready , and if the anger was still there, he could continue with his own daggers and swords. If by that time his wrath had not been calmed down yet, he would go to the rebel armoury and would take care of the stockpiled weapons. But he always started with his skinning kit. That kit was the only thing that he had inherit from his father and it was also the only thing he could kept over years of fights and constant escapes. It was a way to never forget where the real hatred had to be placed. It was a reminder of why he had to do thing that no one else would. And sometimes it was the only reason he had for not giving up. 

It could seem an easy habit, but the process was extremely painful for Likho. Those moments of blind ire were hard to bear. They were a mixture of hatred with the tortures suffered in Ge'en, entangled with the oath he had given to the cause, with the memory of his village being assaulted; the screams, the cries, the fire burning his home, the blood oozing from his father's corpse. The confusion was an enormous monster, eating him up alive. Certainly, he could perceive all his weaknesses crawling out from the inside. 

It was impossible to deny that Ge'en had been a milestone in his life. A point of no turning back, a never-healed wound. 

 

Sadly, this did not affect Likho exclusively. Although some rebels could sympathize with him, most of them considered him as a threat. The thought that maybe a word could make the man lose his control was not an encouraging reason to stay in the Enclave. Rebels lived everyday with the fear of being uncovered by Azadi spies, and now they had to add this fear coming from the very guts of the cause. It was too risky. 

Maybe due to Likho, perhaps due to the facilities that the Azadi were offering lately, perhaps encouraged by the agony of an already lost cause, many humans left the Resistance. 

It was expected. Why to fight an Empire which did not affect them in the slightest?. Why keeping the resistance with dangerous Magicals that were not even grateful?. It was not worth the trouble.

* * *

After two years of training, Likho finally recovered control over his nerves, even though the ritual of sharpening weapons turned part of him. He also developed a new fighting style that kept his warrior skills almost intact.  _Almost_ . 

Bachin's teachings had helped him, but he never found a way to deal with his left side completely. That was a serious real weakness in combat, especially for a warrior of short range like him. Whether he liked it or not, he had to accept the undeniable need of fighting by someone else's side from that moment on; he had to rely on somebody to protect his left flank. 

As soon as April knew about this weakness, she modified her own fighting style to remain always by Likho's left side. She had to do it, considering she was the only person that used to go with him into missions. The rest of the rebels never again trusted Likho after the tensed episode, even though it had been buried many years ago. Their memories were hardly easy to erasing when the Dolmari never stopped showing his hatred towards every human. Understandable, but in the end, useless. 

Likho was an important assets for the Resistance, so April knew she could not just put him aside. However, nobody else would share the battleground with such dangerous behaviour, and this fact made April worry the most. What was going to happen with him, if she had to go far away from Marcuria?. 

 

She never knew if Likho realised about the change in her fighting style. Whether he knew it or not, he was doing an excellent work in pretending not to. Or perhaps he simply did not care. He had been always quite aware that survival of the Resistance had everything to do with teamwork, even though he was doing the opposite since his recovery. 

I fact, he had turned into a very isolated man. He used to eat alone, and to train quite early in the morning, when everyone was still sleeping. During the day, if he had no missions to do, he used to spend most of the time gathering information in Marcuria. At sunset, he used to leave the Enclave in boat and to go to the entrance of the hideout. 

Seated on the rocks nearby, he could appreciate the sea and the sun merging their figures long beyond the horizon. The different shades of blue in that sky, reflected in the ocean like a broken mirror, gave him peace of mind. It made him remember Delkran, that old shack with a warm, blue fire in the small chimney, and the smell of tea inside it. That sky was for him art and freedom; it was the weight of his own decisions, as that shack was to Delkran. They were symbols of inspiration, the reason to never stop, the promise of good times ahead to come with no wars, no blood, no judging eyes, no whispers in Dolmarian. But they have a cost: they were only for one.

 

The sound of water being moved calmly interrupted his thoughts, but remained still. The boat's movement was gentle, the way those footsteps approached his left side were relaxed, and the well-known sound of a heavy cloak made him smile almost imperceptibly. 

He did not need to turn his face to realise who was this uninvited guest. The figure sat by his side, in the edge of the rock, and for a long moment both remained silent. Maybe the sky, unlike the shack, was for more than just one.

“Beautiful view”, April said and moved a bit to touch Likho's shoulder with hers. It was natural for both of them to be close physically. It was a strange need that none of them had never questioned, not even after the end of their relationship, “Captain Bachim has just done the delivery of food and medicines in the North. We are heading to the West next month, with the rest of the cargo.” she said.

“Myria?”

“Yes.”

Both kept silent observing the sunset in the horizon which slowly turned from golden yellow into red, while a hot, salty breeze moved their hairs.  “ Be careful” he added. 

She chuckled, and rested her head in his shoulder. “I should ask for vacations. Don't you feel like everything is too much, sometimes?”.

Likho rested his head on her, and closed his eye, sighing. “All the fucking time.”

“I wonder how I would have ended if I were in my world.”

“Does it matter?”

“Mn. Probably not. But that's what you think when you are too tired” she smiled, observing the last sunbeams shaping the clouds in a violet sky. 

“You know you can rest here.”

“I know, it's just... it's more complicated.”

Likho took distance from her and turned his face to finally look at her. “Like?”

“Well, I don't need to ask you. I know this crossed your mind many times. But...” She wiped her smile out from her face, and her playful tone turned into a more serious one, “sometimes one feels like it's time to give up. Right?. Maybe it's because nothing changes. Death here, blood there, fear behind that. I'm so tired, Likho.”

The man observed her for a moment, until he finally spoke, bluntly and straight into the point, “are you sure you are tired? Or it's just because you are not the centre of this world?”

She elbowed him “Silly.” 

He smirked. “You can't fool me. I know you. I know you always hated the ending of your big mission. But you can't do much about it, only continuing your own way. Y ou can't give up. Remember the old Dolmarian saying-”. 

April rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah,  _if you are tired, you are dead_ , I know. Still... I would like to just- ”

“A lot of people see you as a guidance. You are important. _Ironic symbol of the Resistance_.”

She chuckled at the small variation in Likho's voice. “You'll never let it go.”

“Mmph. A human leading Magicals... if that doesn't show how fucked up we are, I don't know what could”.

Both of them laughed quietly and took distance again. April moved her head from a side to the other, and a loud crack echoed in the cave. Likho raised his eyebrows, and without saying a word, he sat behind her and applied a firm massage in her shoulders and nape. She closed her eyes, delighted by Likho's scent and hands. "Did I tell you that you smell delicious?"

He chuckled. "Always". 

She felt those forceful hands working on her shoulders, releasing many knots with those broad fingers. There was something deeply exciting about exposing such vital point such as her neck, to big hands that had broken so many necks along their life. The thought made impossible for her to restrain a lustful moan, which stopped Likho's hands suddenly, and patted April's back energetically instead. “Your back is like a stone. You need to find a way to release all that tension”, she shook with each pat, but she did not mind. The bad guy was the master of breaking moods bluntly. It could have been much better a subtle evasive, but it was Likho after all. She was going to take her own revenge. She turned her head a bit, and looked at him over her shoulder with a mischievous smile. “I can think in a pleasant way to release a lot of it...” 

Likho just sighed and slapped softly her head, sitting by her side again and focus his attention on the view.

She chuckled, rubbing her head. “hey, don't blame me. Blame that scent of yours. Besides good bad guys are in short supply lately... and the only ones I know want me dead.”

Likho chuckled. “Please, don't. I 'd hate to see you with an Azadi.”

“But don't tell me they don't have a kind of charm...” 

The joke went farther, and Likho's smile faded out as his face darkened. “The only charmed Azadi I know is a dead one.”

“Uh... sorry.” she added, silence filling the rest of the moment. The sky was almost deeply blue, some starts began to appear, and all what had left of the day was a reddish purple colour in the horizon. “Uhm. And what about you?” she asked. 

“Mn?” he looked at her. 

“You don't.... have some person to relieve stress?”

“No.” he said and looked away. 

“Really? Nobody here got your attention?... did you check in other sides?... other people?”

“I have no idea what do you mean. And I can't care less.”

“Oh. Ok. Got it. Getting too grumpy by not bedding anyone.” He looked at her with a deadly, deep frown that could have scared anyone but April. She just laughed. “Oh, come on. We are rebels, made of flesh. It's not so insane.” he sighed, now with his eye on the view. It was pointless to threaten her with his faces. “Besides, this war is taking so long. It takes too much from all of us. It breaks us. It's hard to continue just by fighting over, and over, and over.” her smile faded. The strange tone in April's words, worried him. She had her look lost in the horizon. “One day, you are the world itself, the next one, you are just a bad dream. But the reality keeps going on. The fight continues, even though you are tired of it. At some point, without nothing more than this reality, your purpose fades out, and you find yourself wondering what's the meaning of everything...” she blinked, returning to herself. “That's why a person for tension relief it's a good idea. Warm nights with plans ahead, if we all survive, of course. “

Likho snuck his hands to her nape, and pressed the most tensed zone. It was truly a neck made of stone, “It seems that it's you who needs  _that_ person”. 

She chuckled concealing her tiny sadness.

 


	4. Chapter 4

"So, you brought more children" Likho said crossing arms over his chest.

Shepherd imitated Likho's pose as well, "Their parents are aware of this, and they are proud of them. They want to make a difference. And they are not children anymore, Likho. They are young adults, eager to learn how to help us."

The Dolmari, in silence, looked at where the new group of rebels had been gathered. Around fifteen teenage Zhids were observing with big eyes the installations of the Enclave, surprised by the ancient construction. Some of them were astonished by the magical lamps, while others hardly could conceal their enthusiasm in front of a table full of weapons. At some point, one of them started to play with another's ears, and the whole situation finished in a lame childish fight. "Of course. A whole group of grown-ups" 

“Do I need to remind you that the cause is running out of people?” She added.

“No. You don't need to. I've just remembered we are heading straight into desperation”.

“Do you think I enjoy bringing them into this?. Do you think it's easy for me to lead? This cause requires sacrifices, Likho, and-”

“I know.” he interrupted her words. For a second he lowered his head, thinking in silence. More things that _had to be done_. A must. More to add in the heavy rebel cause's list. “.. so, do you want me to babysit them?”

“This is your opportunity to recover the trust that our group has lost in you.”

Offended, he raised an eyebrow “Huh?. Is this a  _test_ ? Are  _you_ testing  _me_ ?”

“No. I trust you, Likho. We all do. But some are scared of you. You have given them some impressions hard to erase. As I said, this is a good opportunity for you to be known anew in a fresh group, and maybe to repair those wrong images in the other rebels.”

Likho sighed. “Why this?... they could have been Dolmari at least... these Zhidlings... ugh, they can't stop jabbering all the time.”

Shepherd chuckled. “It's surprising to listen such statement coming from a man who detests to be perceived by humans as only one single thing.” Likho frowned, and quickly turned his head to the Samare. She was smirking at him, and the sharpness in her eyes stabbed Likho's pride. He tried to said something, but nothing came to his lips. “You have work to do.” She finally said, and left the room. 

He rubbed his face and grumbled. It could have been much better to go with April, and leave Chawan and the others as babysitters of these Zidhlings; most of them were sons and daughters of farmers. They only knew how to harvest fields. He had to analyse each one of them and peer through all their uneducated skills to guess their most qualified one and put them into the right group for practising. He observed two boys pushing each other while laughing aloud, and sighed. What had he done to receive Amada's wrath upon him?. 

With firm steps, Likho approached the group and called for their attention. Everyone stopped the mess they were doing, and observed him with big, bright eyes. They were excited because it was the first time in their lives that they could see a real Dolmari in the flesh. Soon, they started to murmur around him. 

He sighed again. 

After some introductions and questions, Likho assigned each one to their future role. They were immensely eager, and they could not wait for tomorrow to start their real training. On the other hand, Likho was simply irked; being the babysitter of a bunch of Zhidlings, following their clumsy progress, teaching them any handy technique, and removing them from their failed role with the consequential tantrum, were not the most appealing tasks for him.

 

When he thought he had finished his work of the day with all of them, he realised a Zhid was missing. It had been missing the whole day, and the thought did not wait to cross his mind:  _a traitor, a spy_ . Cold sweat crossed his back as he left the room to meet Shepherd. This had to be informed immediately, in order to block any entrance and exit of the Enclave, and found the damned-.

He bumped with a Zhid in the second floor. The feline creature was at the stair, by Likho's left side. The girl just bowed several times after a sudden flow of unintelligible words came from her mouth. 

Annoyed, Likho scrutinized her, “are you from the new group of-”

“Oh, yes. Yes, yes. I'm totally lost, you know. They told me _'hey, take this stair, do left, then right, second stair, and you are done'_ , but I... guess I was too distracted with something else, and got lost.”

He raised an eyebrow suspiciously, “ Something else?”.

“You all here have beautiful paintings, and flags, and symbols. Everything is so sublime. It looks like a headquarter of brave people in those novels with heroes and martyrs. I hope we are not going to become the last ones, right?.” Likho frowned. “Uh. I said something wrong?, I guess I need to keep looking for the instructor...” she said stepping back.

“Stop,” Likho's commanding voice made the Zhid jump in the spot. “The instructions have just finished.”

“Ughh. Shit. Uh, sorry. Daamn. Always the same. When will I learn?. I hate to get distracted so much. But you got this painting of the white Dragon. Did you see its scales have a pattern inside themselves? That's a lot of work.”

“You are a farmer as well, I imagine. Like the others.” he said trying to focus on the Zhid.

“Oh. The instructions!. Of course. Yes. well, half farmer.” Likho frowned, but when he realised that such gesture was enough to encourage the Zhid to keep talking, he regretted it. “My family wanted me to become a farmer. Oh, well, a farmer's wife. I've been helping in the family farm some years, just when I quit school, but you know... I still don't know pretty sure how to plant a seed, in what season, the usual care. I know how to keep a live-stock stick together. But I hate that... you know, fleas. When you are a Zhid, that's a problem. I don't know if you understand-”

“Your name?”

“Oh... well, I was told to tell it to my instructor... I should find him first. I've just came and-”

“I'm your instructor.”

She blinked twice. “ A Dolmari?”, regret hit her a second later; she pressed her lips in a fine line under the prominence of Likho's frown. “I-It's not like it's a bad thing. At all. Of course not. Dolmari are so biiiig, and bluuue. And Biiiiig. Uh... I just thought that a Zhid would guide us... y-you know, into this ' _wild zone of war_ ', with same codes, and...”

“Same codes?” His frown deepened, “Resistance is made of different people. Zhid, Samare, Dolmari, humph, humans”, he smirked bitterly for a second, “there is even one of those rats.”

“Rats? You mean.... the Banda?”

“Do you know them?” Likho said surprised. It was unexpected such knowledge coming from a Zhid farmer who never had left her land.

“They are super cool. I've read a bit about them. But... rats? Really?” she said with clear disapproval. Tensed by the weird situation, she looked around, while Likho remained silent. “Anyway, I'm Enu-Mar Sand'ya, Twilight Child, Daughter of Te'a-Mar”

“Humph, Enu” Likho said expressionlessly. 

The little Zhid opened her eyes wide, and terror crossed her face, “ No, no. No!. you did it wrong.” She said scandalized. “You have just called me like a whore”

“What? I-I.. no... What?.” Likho's raised his eyebrows. How in Caire's hell would he follow a single idea of this Zhidling?

“My father will kill me if he sees how his daughter is being treated like _that_ by others, specially by a man!, _by a man_!, Really? Enu? just Enu?, he will die!. I mean, I've been called Enu in other situations, but lovers are a different thing and-”

Likho raised his hand to stop Enu's mouth. “Look. I'm a Dolmari with very, very short patience. Here, in the Resistance, we give a shit about titles. We keep our asses alive by fighting. If you are the Daughter of the Balance itself, we don't give a damn shit. You will face dangerous situations, and the blade going to cut your head off won't wait for us to end your fancy title. Choose your damned name, whatever it is, and tell me now. And  _now_ .”

Enu kept silent for a moment, her big eyes teary. She looked down, observed her bare feet, and in almost a whisper, she chose. “Just Enu, then. I guess.”

“Good. Skills?”

She looked up at the Dolmari, who crossed his arms while waiting. “I'm not sure. I can cook grains, and pluck some birds. I fought once in my school when a big b-”

“Skills that can help to kill azadi soldiers” Likho interrupted with a strong, hoarse voice. 

She trembled. “I guess cooking grains for making them choke to death is not a proper skill, right? “ she snickered, then looked down as her ears went down too. “Then… maybe, I'm good at... nothing?” She smiled nervously.

Likho sighed, but knowing his presence was stressing the girl too much, he relaxed his position. “Well, I guess you are hungry and tired, like the rest of your group. Go rest, eat some food, and assist tomorrow early to the training ring. We will test you in several skills and see what you are made of.”

“Of, of course.” She nodded and left the place taking the stairs up. 

Likho was going to leave the place, but waited some minutes until the Zhid returned. She was too ashamed for talking, and remained by his side, waiting for him to lead the way. Likho observed the girl for a couple of seconds. He was disgusted. That group was going to be cannon fodder, unless he could train them to be decent fighters in less than three months. He grunted. What had he done to be the target of Amada's curses? He could feel her pain, throwing the youngsters to the war, mercilessly, and still yet dying on the inside from sympathy. Ironic or hypocritical?. Who was he to question Amada?.

A flash of Delkran's laugher crossed his mind before speaking, “ Follow me. It seems you are lost.  _Again_ .” he said, listening Enu's snicker behind him. 

* * *

 

As many nights free of missions, he found himself there, sat around an empty table, in a dark corner of the tavern, drinking what humans sold as Dolmari ale. It was not even a cheap imitation, but he drank it anyway. 

That night he was giving his back to everyone. He usually preferred a good dark spot, from where to observe any customer's entrance or departure. It was a Resistance habit, applied to his -kind of- personal life. There was something related to that fake sensation of power in observing from the shadows, a false sense of control that he barely had. However, it was the power he always desired, a power that could be transformed into actions to free his people, to stop the endless cycles of pain. 

It was also a particular kind of power that predators shared, hidden in shadows, waiting for a prey to appear. However, at the end of the day, there was only a worn out cause defended by a bunch of tired creatures; nothing could be farther than a predator image than that. It was a mere nocturnal fantasy to play with, like the other illusions he could find in that tavern. But not today. He just wanted to drink his ale alone, Trying to forget everything about power, Magicals, and impossible wishes.

Those overexcited Zhiglings that he had been dealing with during the whole day had exhausted him, and they had caused him an annoying soft headache. He barely was in the mood of observing his own glass of ale. 

He drank the last bits of it and rubbed his face, when a furry hand touched his arm, drawing with its claws the contours of Likho's muscles. The Dolmari lifted his eye and observed his uninvited guest. 

It was a Zhid with dark brown fur and red eyes, whose name was Merhdiv. He was a sailor that he had met in that tavern three years ago. He was younger than him, but not so much to confuse him with one of those Zhidligs he had to babysit during the following months. His temper was mature as a result of his experiences in dangerous trips, but not too much for lacking that mischievous sparkle that everybody knew that sailors had. Likho was not particularly fond of the man, or that was what he wanted to believe. At least he was not a Dolmari. Not that were many in places like that, anyway. 

In a whole year of the Salty Seaman, it was possible to count all the Dolmari customers with the fingers of a single hand, and this fact was reassuring. The less he could find his own people in places like this, the better. He could not deny that sharing more that simple nights with someone else was tempting, but there was something too wrong in the image of two Dolmaris laying together.

 

What the place lacked in Dolmaris, it made up in humans. 

Every night the tavern was crowded with humans, and from time to time, big groups of Zhid sailors appeared just to disappear soon after. Certainly, if Likho had to pick between a Human and a Zhid, his choice was not hard to guess. In his experience, a Zhid would never be as creepier and gross as every human that, encouraged by myths and biases over Dolmaris, tended to approach him just for his _exoticness_. Merhdiv was just a good, pleasant night once in a while. Nothing more, nothing less. It was true that maybe the Zhid was particularly attached to Likho's scent, but that, more than giving him an uncomfortable feeling, reminded him of April. The remembrance always used to draw a sad smile on his face, that gave a wrong impression to the Zhid. But he never explained, for what it mattered. 

 

Alike any other night in the Salty Seaman, that day Likho only wanted to drink calmly his tasteless ale glass. So, without courtesies or manners, he moved his hand in the air to chase out the Zhid, “Go away.” He said softly.

The man smiled, showing sharpen fags, “What a greeting.”

“I'm not in the mood for more Zhids.”

“Oooh”, the man moved his ears full of earrings, so a jangling sound of small bells could be heard. The Zhid raised an eyebrow and sat in front of Likho, never losing his broad smile. “I'd like to hear the story. That sounds _sexily_ interesting.” he smirked.

“Get out of here, before I lose my patience”

“As if you have any...” the Zhid chuckled. “So, you really had a bad day. Can I help you to feel better?”

Leant on his elbows, Likho rubbed his face and grunted. Then, he looked at the Zhid man straight into his eyes, and forced a smile absolutely intimidating. “Yes, you can.”

Merhdiv approached him a bit over the table, and moved his long ears producing that jangling sound once again, “ And how-”

“By leaving me alone. _Now_. Last warning.”

The Zhid rolled his eyes, huffed, and left the table. 

After several minutes, another body approached Likho's left side. Its shadow was projected all over the table, infuriating the Dolmari. He only wanted to drink ale for a change. Deepening his frown, Likho turned violently to the person standing by his side and spat out, “I've told you to go awa-”, but his words stopped midway. There, he did not find the annoying Zhid but the mischievous Captain Balsay Bachim, smirking at him while moving his eyebrows up and down repeatedly. Likho's blood froze. 

“Mo-Jaal shit me if my eyes are fooling me, just look what we got here...” 

“I wanted...” Likho coughed. “I wanted to... drink. The Journeyman inn was too crowded... I'm giving a try, to this one.” he lifted his glass a bit, showing it at Balsay. “With its new ale”

“Yeah, because this tavern is so empty”, Bachim laughed, looking around all the tables full of men. Some of them were loud and drunken, embracing their drinking partners; shyness had abandoned them many rounds ago. Others, inspired by the forbidden nature of their encounters, were secretive, most of them hidden in the darkest corners of the place. There was no more tables available for today, and quietness was not the most remarkable characteristic of the tavern at those hours. Bachin sat in front of Likho and called the publican with a wide movement of his mutilated arm. 

After several minutes, a big man with a gentle gesture in his face and a foreign accent approached the table. “Balsay, do you want the usual?” the captain nodded firmly at the publican, while the Dolmari kept looking at the table, in a vain attempt for turning himself into an invisible being. “You too, Likho?”

“Ale. Just ale.” he said never lifting his chin.

When the publican returned with the drinks, Likho still was unable to look at any place but the table. Silent, Bachin poured ale into their glasses and suspended his in the air, forcing the Dolmari to slowly look at him. The Captain remained there, waiting for his delayed toast. 

With certain level of insecurity quite unusual in his movements, Likho raised his glass and hit softly Bachim's. He could perceive the man was completely chill, enjoying the atmosphere, never losing his confidence. There was not even a small bit of shame or revulsion, and that gave Likho an inexplicable tiny sentiment of envy. 

Likho remained silent, observing his glass for some seconds, and then, drank it all at once. He had to do through the alcohol what others were able to do naturally. 

“So, you come here often.” Balsay affirmed. There was not a single hint of questioning intonation in his words. 

“Hm?”

“Ulvic said your name. He only does that with regular customers.” 

Likho poured more ale in his glass and drank, praying to his gods to just disappear. After two or three glasses, he stopped for a moment, and gathered strength to finally speak up, “could you... keep this... in secret?” he said in a whisper.

Balsay laughed loudly. “Mo-jaal damned fool. That's what all this fucking weird behaviour of yours is about?” Likho averted his eyes “Fine, if it makes you feel better, I won't say a word, but believe me, nobody gives a shit either.”

Likho observed the man, a bit surprised, as if his words would have been said in another language. Once relaxed, his curiosity made the Dolmari speak, “I imagine you are not here for the ale.”

Bachim smirked and skimmed the whole place once again. “That life is part of my old times, boy. I'm just looking for my bloody good-for-nothing second in command. We have things to arrange for tomorrow sailing, and he is nowhere to be found. This berk can't stay in his pants....”

Suddenly, the calm murmur of the place stopped at once. Three Azadi soldiers broke open the Salty Seaman. They were wearing their shiny armours and showing off dreadful weapons. Like preys expecting the first movement of their predator, everyone remained still, observing thoughtfully. It was as if nobody were breathing at all, too worried about thinking what to do in the following second, trying to be one or two steps ahead of the predators. 

“What in the bloody hell...” Bachim whispered, as Likho turned his head as much as he could, only being able to observe back over his own shoulder. He did not want to drag attention on him, but he needed to watch. He swore at himself for that bad decision of giving his back to the whole place. 

Stood in the entrance, the soldiers inspected every customer, eyes jumping from a table to another, until Ulvic approached them and spoke slowly. “My respectable officers, may I ask you to keep calm?. For many men, this place is a shelter where to find rest after a long, bad day, and I would not like to see blood-”

The main officer hit Ulvic's face so hardly, that the publican lost his balance and fell on the ground, confused.  “ In the name of the Goddess, we are here to see with our own eyes how one of us has been perverted by magic. We will bring justice to the lost one, and eradicate the source of his corruption.”

One of the soldier approached the main officer's ear and whispered. Then, the three of them glared at a far-away dark corner in the tavern, where they spot the man that they were looking for and his terrified Dolmari partner. 

“Oh, no, you bloody fool.” Bachim whispered when he followed the soldiers' gaze. Then, he closed his eyes, lowering his head, and compressed his lips in a thin line full of frustration and regret.

When Likho realised that the Dolmari in that table was Balsay's second in command, he only could turn his head and watch the lame scene. With a clean blow, one of the soldiers killed the Magical in the same instant he approached him, while the other soldiers grabbed the human by his arms. 

“You will be sent to Sadir, and will be judged under our righteous laws.”

From three tables away, a Dolmari and a Zhid stood up from their seats furiously, unsheathing their weapons hidden in their clothes while swearing at the soldiers.

Clenched teeth and tensed fists, Likho tried to get up from his seat, encouraged by those brave Magicals, but Bachin grabbed his forearms with violence and whispered at him. “Please boy, don't throw your fucking life this way too.”

Likho could not even react when another soldier drew his sword and killed the brave Zhid after some dodging movements, splashing blood everywhere. The Dolmari was hard to reduce with only one soldier, but he could not stand when two attacked him at the same time. The alcohol in the body of the Magical betrayed him, and he could not dodge a deadly blow, collapsing lifeless in the ground. 

Still recovering from the hit, Ulric observed the scene, his face contorted in a pain that had nothing to do with his swelled cheek.

“Does anyone else want to stand against the Goddess' law?” a soldier shouted aloud, while the tavern remained still, many eyes blinking at the soldiers. 

“How could you do that to my customers.” the big man said gently, while standing up. He was pressing his cheek, and a thread of blood run from the corner of his lips. “Customers come here to rest, to forget the world outside there... and you came here-”

The three soldiers walked towards the big man, pulling the other man who was still looking at the gore image of the Dolmari that he had been talking with just a minute ago. “This man is an officer of the Azadi army. He is breaking natural laws. I'm sure you can understand that's more important that any irrelevant rules of a filthy tavern.” Ulvic averted his eyes, silent, giving the Officer the conclusion he wanted to, “As I imagined. Soldiers?, we are departing. May the light of the Goddess accompany you all.” he said before leaving the tavern with the other men. 

 

Bachim let a sigh escape from his mouth once the danger passed by, and released Likho's arm where his fingers had marked the blue skin. Both stood from the table and walked to the corpses. Bachin squatted before his lifeless friend, and closed his eyes, leaving some prays to Mo-Jaal in case the Dolmari gods were planning to be hard on his soul. 

“Bloody idiot. I've told you that your pants were going to kill you. I can't believe it. A fucking Azadi Officer?. What on the four winds you were thinking about?.” He shook his head and took the Dolmari's daggers and a locket that was around his neck. 

Under Likho's questioning look, Balsay cleared his voice, “he had a family in the South. These things belong to them, it was some bullshit tradition of his family, I don't know. He always told me to return them if he fell first. I never took him seriously... Damn fool.”

Slowly, most clients left the place, giving to Ulvic a kind gesture of support; sometimes a nod, sometimes a pat. All of them left more coins than usual in their tables, as a gesture of sympathy, but also as friendship. The issue had been related to an Azadi officer, and that was a clear mark that the Salty Seaman had its days counted. It was not going to take much time for the authorities to force the publican to close the place, in the name of the Order.

Still massaging his painful cheek, Ulvic approached the Captain. “Please, leave this place. It's not safe for you two. I don't want more dead. If more soldiers appear...”

“You are right. Let me know if you need help. You know where to contact me” Bachim said, patting Ulvic's shoulder as both humans nodded in complicity. 

Likho only remained silent, looking at the dead Magicals, their blood slowly spreading all over the floor. He would never get used to this. Never.

* * *

The next morning, the group of Zhidlings showed up in the training ring. By that time, Likho had already arranged the place to practice swords, daggers, bow, close combat and magic. Most Zhidlings remained with the assigned role, which dad been chosen the previous day, and only four of them had to change it. He send them to Na'ane's room, to learn what they needed about magic. Those gifted Zhids had made Likho shiver. Their untrained hands emanated a powerful, chaotic energy, showing a formidable potential and a great resource for the Resistance if they could manage to live long enough. 

The only Zhid that did not appeared until very late in the afternoon was that weird one. She walked with her lips pressed in a fine line, looking at Likho with big puppy eyes, knowing that a scold was unavoidable. 

“It was about time for you to show up. What now?. Did you see a fucking green dragon shitting in a pattern?”. Likho was not looking at her. He had gathered most of the training weapons, and was bend over a table, cleaning and checking the swords.

“I'm sorry. I really sorry. I overslept. This won't happen again, ever. I promise.”

The Dolmari stopped his movement along the blade and glared at her. “Imagine an attack. Azadi soldiers everywhere. Here, we were resisting long enough for you to appear. If there was a chance of survival, it would have been thanks to your intervention. We resisted hours. You didn't appear.” he put the sword in the weaponry, and took one of his daggers. “Now we are all dead. We couldn't resist until you decided to move your lazy ass from your bed.” he checked his dagger's haft, and put it on his belt. “Imagine this place with all our corpses.  _'I'm sorry, I overslept. It won't happen again'_ . You say to our bodies.” Likho swallowed and took a moment to continue. “Does your apology matter?.” Enu remained silent, averting her eyes from the Dolmari, but always returning at him, scared that he could consider the evasive as an offence. “Does it?” He said louder. 

Enu gasped. “N-N-No. I-I-It doesn't.” she swallowed. “...but I was too exhausted-”

Likho walked around her with his arms crossed, “ Do you think an Azadi will consider your tiredness? Do you think a slaughter operation will wait for you just because  _you_ want to sleep five minutes more?.” The movement of the Dolmari around her was intimidating. She lowered her head, not sure if she wanted to cry or run away. However, after a moment of silent, she saw a pair of daggers in front of her. With trembling hands, she held them and looked up. Likho's face was now softer, and a tinge of sadness was all what had left in his frown. “Do not get me wrong, Enu. Knowing this is part of the training. Believe me, you don't want to see your fellows dead.” 

She shook her head softly, and looked at the daggers. “Can we start with a bow? I think ranged weapons is my thing. Being late with daggers?, useless. Now, being late with a bow?, that could be good in more than an occasion, right?.”

Likho simply sighed. 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any suggestion or correction will be appreciated.   
> I don't have betareader, so please help me to improve the chapter with any correction you may see important.
> 
> hope you enjoy the writing.

“You disagree”, Shepherd said, arranging her cloak around her shoulders. She was not accustomed to Marcuria's winter, and even though the Enclave was far underground, covered by rocks and surrounded of water, the chill breeze had found a way to sneak into their main base.

With a deep frown, Likho grunted as Bachim patted him. “Your fucking mood will never change, uh?.”

“I-I don't think that's a bad idea”, Enu added. "They got enough training already". She had joined the table of operations several weeks ago, when she showed a gifted skill for fast thinking in middle of heated discussions. She probably was too young and inexperienced for developing complex war strategies, but she had a natural sensor for perceiving the catch in almost any situation. “They need to face a real fight. _Real._ It's not so terrible. We did it last month, Likho. Do you remember?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, “It was a completely different situation.  _You_ were with  _me_ . We both. In a simple mission.”

“Well, they are six. In a simple mission. Five Zhids are not enough for being a Likho?” She smiled mischievously. 

“In the North, I left my skilled second-in-command. He won't put those Zhids in danger, Likho. But they need to practice, and to understand what means to be in a real mission. You prepared them well in these months. You have done your work.” Shepherd added.

“I'm not so sure” he moved his head from a side to the other, and scratched his nape. Maybe he was worried excessively. “Off topic. What do you know about April?, What about her mission?.”

Shepherd looked at Na'ane, who had been silent during the whole reunion. The Zhidmari crossed her eyes with Likho's before answering, “They are well. The mission will take a bit longer, because April has found more resources to steal, but we need to ambush them properly, and we need time to find and exploit the best circumstances. Then, we'll bring all the supplies into your ship”, she turned her face at Bachim who nodded energetically.

Likho gave a step back, and bended over the table, leaning his weight on his hands, taking time before speaking. His ponytail fell by his side. “It must not be delayed any longer. The more you wait, the more they can plan, and the chances to be discovered get higher. Tell April to stop being a fool. Another group can take those supplies in another mission. It's been a long time since the last time she went under cover. They will notice her.” he moved his legs, nervously.

“Likho is right.” Shepherd said to Na'ane. “She is taking too many risks. I don't know why.”

Standing up, Likho sighed. “I have to go with her” he straightened his body, and touched his daggers in his belt, to be sure they were there.

“No. We need you here.” with clear voice, Shepherd said as a command. 

“What for?. You sent the Zhidlings that I was training to play the soldiers with Azadis.”

She crossed her arms, and her eyes turned a bit harder, “Likho, you know it was the right thing to do.”

He lowered his head for a second, and huffed. “I know...”

"We need you here, Likho. April will be fine. For you,” she said looking straight into Na'ane's eyes “go and speak with April. Tell her to come. We'll wait for you all and then, we will think about the next step to take”, the Zhidmari nodded gently, “If there is not anything else to discuss, we can end this reunion” Shephard said, and the people around the table walked away.

 

That night, a violent storm hit Marcuria. Wild rain and thunders fell over the town, forcing everyone to seek shelter in any warm place. The guards were nowhere to be seen along the streets, and people were hidden in their humble homes, praying for their roofs to resist. The only ones that were not disgusted with the weather were the taverns' and inns' owners, whose customers, surprised by the sudden storm, had to remain inside, drinking while talking stories as an entertainment to kill time. 

The strength of the tempest was so tremendous that buildings shook, and the ground trembled for many seconds after each lightning. Not even the Enclave was safe. Every little bit of rock quaked, spreading a roar that went through walls, forcing to more than a rebel to stay awake. 

In his bed, annoyed, Likho had his open eye fixated on the ceiling while cursing in Dolmarian. He had turned in the bed many times, in a vain attempt to find a position that could help him to conciliate sleep. However, all what he got was his shirt's armhole ripped. He grunted and remained still, trying not to tear it even more.

Once the storm seemed to calm down for a bit, and his eyelid finally felt heavy again, a small, nervous knock hit repeatedly his door. It stopped soon after and turned into a long sound of nails digging the wood at the same moment that thunders made the whole building tremble.

“What in the Hell's-?” he said in guard, sitting up in the bed.

“I-it's me. Can.... can... can I pass?”

Likho rubbed his face and grunted. He moved his hand close to the lamp, and a blue flame appeared, illuminating the room faintly. He opened the door, and found Enu with her ears down, her pupils wide open, and a blanket around her shoulders. “What now?” he said, frowning.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't... I hadn't... Ugh. I'm feeling bad now. Were you sleeping?, of course you were, I'm the only one who... well...”

Likho stepped aside and allowed Enu to enter. The corridor was colder than his room. “So? What's the matter?” he turned over his heels and looked at her after closing the door.

The blueish, fainting light in the room mixed with his own skin colour gave him a magical aura. Maybe it was that shirt with long sleeves and an armhole half ripped. Or it was the contrast of the scars that shyly appeared on his half exposed chest. Perhaps it was his loosen hair, falling free and messy on his left side while the rest was put behind his right ear. His amber eye, without anger, shaped Likho's expression into something solemn and sad. Something gentle but worn out through time.

“Wow, why we never saw you in this way?, you look like a totally different person.”

Likho crossed his arms over his chest, muscles standing out from the ragged part of his shirt, “ You have just awoken me for this shit?”

“Ah, there you are. I was missing _that_ Likho already.” after finishing her words, she screamed as another thunder hurt her ears and made the whole Enclave tremble.

He raised an eyebrow, everything made sense suddenly. “Oh, no. No, no, no. Did you come here for _that_?...”

Enu pushed lightly but repeatedly his sleeve, “Ouch.  C'mon Likho. I can't sleep.”

“Oh shit, I'm not your babysitter, I had enough of all of you, Zhidlings. It's been months dealing with your overzealous heads. I'm done. I had enough. Go out. Now.”, he returned to his bed and gave his back to Enu, covered up to his neck. “Go to your fucking room, and close the door when you leave.”

“Pleeeeease, I can't sleep. And my room shakes a lot, more than this one. And... I'm alone there. This is my first storm. I don't like this.”

He rolled his eye, “ Oh, fuck. We are fighting Azadi soldiers with babies scared of storms. Resistance is condemned to hell.”

“That's unfair. In the East there are no storms at all.”

Likho moved a bit in the bed, and glared at her. “Don't lie to me”

“It's true. There is rain, some water here and there, but not this horrible end of the world!.” Another thunder made her jump onto the bed. “Please, please, please, please. Let me sleep with you today... I will be in debt forever. I'll do whatever you want.” Likho's bed shook with Enu's words. 

“ _Whatever_?” 

“Uh...” Enu stopped for a moment, looking at the ceiling while thinking, “well, maybe depends on what you fancy... Do you have some weird kink-?”

“Enough!. Get out of my room!” he said, pushing her from the bed by a sudden tug of the blankets. 

Enu jumped off, and kept shoving Likho's shoulder, shaking the man repeatedly. “Oh, c'mon, it was a joke. Joke, joke. You old grumpy one. Pleaseee, let me stay, pleaase. Please, please, please, please, please.”

“Ugh! Damned Zhidling.” Likho grunted, always giving her his back. Surrendered, he opened the blankets to allow her in. 

Before the man could change his mind, Enu slid into with a clean, agile movement.  “ You are the best, Likho.” she said, happy to feel a warm bed where to wrap her frost body. 

“But you will clean this room for a whole year. And these sheets. They will be full of fur tomorrow. I hate that.” Likho added in his inimitable way.

“eh? A _year_?” 

“You said _whatever._ ”

“Ugh, I would have preferred some kinky stuff. Y'know.” she said, looking at the big back in front of her. It was like a wall, materialising that usual distance that separated the man from everyone else. Certainly, it was Likho. 

Thunders startled her once again, but she could manage  her nerves much better, remaining in that warm spot, shrunk.  The room was calmer than hers, but it was not only that. Staying with someone else, and specially by Likho's side, provided her a sense of safety hard to compare. Likho's breath was serene, as it was the movement of his torso at her front, never bothered by the ripping sound of thunders. Distracted by a wooden scent, she sniffed close to his back. It was a spicy smell, like a memory of a forest. 

“Likho. Are you awake?” she whispered.

“What _now_?” he said in a hoarse, sleepy voice, never turning to look at her. 

“Where did you get your perfume from? I thought it was a luxury for a rebel.”

“I have no idea what're you talking about...”

“Your scent, it's delicious.” She got closer, sniffing Likho's hair and nape where the fragrance was stronger. 

He shooed her with his hand. “Stop annoying me or I'll kick your ass out of here.”

“No, please, don't. But seriously... how do you smell so well?”

He yawned, “I see. My people smell that way. Only Humans and Zhids can perceive it, it seems.”

“What? You smell delicious by nature? Damn, that's unfair. I don't know how to deal with the wet smell when it gets in my fur.”

“There is an ancient medicine. It's called bath, Enu.” he said in a monotone.

“Ha ha, so funny.” Enu snapped gently his back. “hey, so, that must be super hot when you and your blue girlfriend are doing the thing” she added mischievously.

Likho grunted. “My people can't sense it. So, no.”

“What? that means you can't know how other Dolmaris smell?”

“Mnhm.”

“What a waste. I could have imagined your girl going-”

“Enu, that's enough.” Likho tensed a bit. 

“Oh. _Enough_. Sure. Sorry?”. 

Both remained silent for a while. The calm sound of their breaths in combination with the gentle movement of their chests made the perfect atmosphere for relaxing and finally falling asleep. However, Enu was far from that. The intense fragrance had taken away any chance of closing her eyes, and made her mind work even faster than ever.

“Mn, Likho? Still awake?”

“Sadly”, he yawned. 

“I was thinking... is this smell thingie what humans enjoy in... you know, _exotic nights_?”

He grumbled. The idea was fixated in Enu's mind, and nothing would stop her until she got rid of it. “I don't know. I don't care.”

“We should. It's good to know what they fancy, so we can use it against them. Just imagine the strategy. It could be another way to reach sold-”

“ _Stop_. Stop that shit.  I just... don’t want to hear what you are suggesting, Enu... This is a curse for my people. I won't exploit that.”

“I know the feeling. But we could use it for spy-”

“Enu. _Enough_. I'm not going to ask to any Dolmari rebel to do such revolting thing. We fight or die, we don't use venomous tricks.”

“Well, it was a thought anyway. Humans can be tricked easily... And it's not something that only Dolmaris can do. Zhids may not smell so good, but humans fancy them too. For other reasons... Well. That reminds me... I had a friend once when I was in school. She was not exactly a friend, but you know, we got along. She had turned friend of a human, I think he was Azadi. He always asked her to stay together after school. One day, she started to avoid him. He kept following her, though. He used to grab her from the arm and pull her through the street. Nobody wanted to stop him. We were scared. He was also a soldier, or something like that. Then, she skipped school, or appeared once in a while with strange wounds. Until... well... one day she was found in the river. Floating. Her body...” She paused for a moment, and wrapped herself tightly with the blanket, “That man had done every twisted thing you can imagine. I was so scared back then.” Likho remained there. For first time since Enu had entered into his room, he did not sigh in annoyance, and on the contrary, he kept still paying attention to her words. “We were...Ten years old.”

Likho tensed a bit and slowly, he turned around. Surprised, he found Enu with tears in her eyes, swallowing hard. She smiled at him, nervously, and her tears ran through her cheeks, “She was not my friend, exactly... b-but... she was amazing. I.. I still remember her body...in the river. Was it necessary?, Killing her, I mean... can't he enjoy without killing her?”

He gently dried her tears and patted her arm. A furious yet controlled sigh was set free from his chest before speaking, “use that fear and anger against them. He has to be killed every time you face an Azadi. Avenge her in any hit you give.”.

She sniffed. “What good will that bring?. Dead are dead, anyway.”

"Justice for our people. Is it not enough?"

"What for?, any time you kill one of them, the retaliation is worse. So we need to kill more, then they will kill twice as much as we did. It never ends. We need to change the strategy."

Likho's gesture hardened in second, "and do you think being their whores is a good one?. Or maybe not reacting at all will stop them from abusing our people? What they want is submission. We never have to give them that.  _Never_ ." He kept silent, moving his thumb on Enu's arm, remembering all the fallen ones along the path. “Besides, dead are dead, it's true. But they can be honoured as long as we live . That must keep you alive. Now, sleep.”

She nodded and closed her eyes. Likho left his arm over her, feeling how the child was getting relaxed even though the storm was out there, shaking the ground and tearing the sky apart.

Sometimes, he moved his thumb and looked at her with sadness. Like that whole group of Zhids, she was a young adult, whose childhood was left behind not long ago. Now, she had to endure the meaning of adulthood in middle of a war, without the chances that a normal young Zhid could have. A life of many youngsters that stepped into the same path he had walked once.

He felt helpless, and with that feeling, he fall asleep.

* * *

Being used to live in the edges of the worst possibilities made people forget about the chances of getting worse. There was something else hidden in this attitude, something related to hope, to wait a positive change once in a while. It made sense. The only difference breaking the negative pattern was a good, reassuring event. However, there was a missing detail in that train of thoughts.

_Tragedy_.

And it was true. Sometimes, it was possible to get worse.

 

Shepherd had been sat in the main chair of the HQ for hours; her trembling legs were too weak to resist her own weight. Her elbows were resting in the table, and her hands were covering her face.

The worst had happened.

Bachim, by her side, was severely wounded. He had lost his leg, and he was still pale due to the blood loss, but he wanted to remain there anyway, as a symbol himself of what meant to be resilient. Na'ane sprayed some magical dust on his amputated leg from time to time, and observed him in detail, to perceive any bad sign that would require immediate intervention. Chawan and Brynn were in a corner of the room, they had some bandages on their bodies, and their faces were solemn and darkened by grief.

“So, that's when I told him, ' _hey, you can't do that_ ', and he was all weird.” Enu's voice, coming from downstairs, was getting louder as she approached the HQ entrance. 

“ _You_ telling _him_ weird?.” Likho's voice tensed Na'ane. 

“Hey, that's not fair. I'm...” Enu's cheerful chatting stopped at the sight of the dark reunion. She worried when she saw Bachim's state. “- what's happening? Are you fine?” 

Likho's relaxed face changed in a blink of an eye, and every muscle of his body tensed. He stepped forward, and fixated his eye on Chawan and Brynn for a couple of seconds, checking their shape. Then, he observed Na'ane, and finally, looked around, trying to find  _her_ . He swallowed. Shepherd's silence, her head moving in a negative, the way she pressed her lips while her folded hands covered her eyes. Everything was speaking too loud to him.

His heart stopped for a second and his breath sped up. “Where is April?”. The expected question was answered with silence, faces looking down and averting eyes. “Where is she?”

“Boy...”, commiserated with the Dolmari, Bachim broke the silence, shaking his head in negative. 

“What happened?”

“They...” Shepherd forced her shattered voice “They attacked Swamp City. Bachim and the others barely could escape. We still don't know how many we lost... but, probably the whole city-” she sighed, rubbing her face. “April... I'm so sorry, Likho. We are... still recovering from the shock. This blow. The Resistance...”

Even though Bachim was weak, he focused his whole attention on the Dolmari, and touched his belt to find his dagger just in case. Likho had been well known years ago for his outrages out of control, and even though he had been able to control them quite well lately, it was sure that this situation was going to open old, festered wounds.

However, Likho barely could react. He remained there, aside the main table, looking at some point on it, in silence, as the memories attacked him. That sad smile on April's face, her tiredness that seemed to be the omen of this tragedy, her never solved need to fulfil a prophecy that required nothing more from her. In a blink of an eye, he came back to reality, turned over his heels and went downstairs to take a boat. He needed to be alone and far away, for everyone's sake.

Enu looked around, and for first time, she knew it was impossible to see the bright side of this situation. April, the fantastic leader she had always heard of, was dead, and with her, her chances to know her personally. The continuity of the Resistance was at stake as well.

“Enu, please. Bring Likho. We don't need another unexpected news for now. We all are heading to the Swamp City. The Enclave may be a risky point if someone has leaked the information of our bases. We need to stay in low profile while we investigate about this. Besides, we have to... give proper bury to our comrades. That's our last duty to them“ Shepherd said, hiding her face in her hands. 

Devastation was not even a fitting word.

* * *

Sat on the edge of the pending bridge that communicated different shacks, Enu observed what had left of Swamp City. It had still its beauty, despite the amount of lifeless bodies spread everywhere. The waters had changed to a dark red; half of the city was turned into ashes, and black wood scattered around were an undeniable proof that situations could get worse.

At the distance, she could spot Na'ane, preparing diligently the bodies, cleaning their mud and closing their wounds, to make them look less slaughtered. Limping, with his body lent over Chawan, Bachim walked through the whole village, identifying the disfigured bodies. Beside them, Brynn separated the bodies for Na'ane to prepare them.

The air had a strong reek, as a reminder that altruistic causes such as the Resistance, had an inner fragility that came from the mortal nature of those that embody it.

In all that landscape of despair, Enu could spot the lame, slouched figure of the Dolmari, sat in the ground, surrounding with his arm the cold corpse of the great legend.

“How long had he been that way?”, softly, Shepherd walked by her side and observed the heartbreaking scene far down. 

“Since the sun raised.” Enu said without averting her eyes. “I've never thought... I could see him like this. Everything in him looks so... wrong, so out of him...”

“It is.”

It was easy to perceive a deep familiarity in the way Likho embraced that body, a dark shadow of pain, that made Enu wonder. She looked at Shepherd, “is it true? , were they...?, you know."

“At some point, yes. But then it ran deeper. I'm... I'm worried about him. Much. We have no idea how this will affect him... and to us, from now on."

“I'm so sorry, Likho”. Enu whispered, her chest compressed at the sorry sight.

“He is not the only one who lost important things in this massacre.” Shepherd looked far away down from Likho, where Chawan had been left alone with a Zhid corpse. Now, it was Brynn who helped Bachim to keep walking and recognizing the bodies. On the other side of the village, a long line of cleaned bodies were prepared one by one by Na'ane, to be ready to pass through this world into the other through the purifying fire of the Balance. 

Silent, Shepherd left Enu and went bridge down, remaining in front of two Samare children, until her legs failed, as it did her reluctance to cry. Na'ane looked at her for a second, and lowered her head, enduring the voiceless pain inside her.

 

Enu jumped off from the high edge to the lowest level, and slowly, walked towards Likho. The man was absent-minded, observing April's face, caressing her cheek and squeezing her hand, unable to control his tears. Certainly, that image was unlike of him, but on the other hand, it was natural. If there was a proof that behind all that anger and rudeness there was still a part not hardened enough, a vital part that he could protect over all those years of Resistance, it was this. The evidence that he truly was a person, made of flesh, bone, and emotions. A person that had to endure far beyond his own limits, but still yet, he could manage to save this tiny part of him, which was being broken among his fingers, getting cold as that hand that he was holding. A part that probably would change forever.

Enu wanted to say something to heal him, but her lips were sealed by the image. She felt a knot in her throat. In that moment, the Resistance, this game of being at war, seemed too real and tangible as the remembrances of that small, damaged body of her friend, stuck in the border of the river. Unable to resist the atmosphere any longer, she ran away from the village, reaching the Swamp's border, and waited there until the end of the ritual, as the sky changed slowly its colours.

 

Every lifeless body found in the Swamp burnt under the last beams of the Sun that escaped from the horizon. The flames extended in a long line along the green waters, and a dark, dirty smoke raised to the sky.

The only body that was still waiting for its last departure was the one protected by Likho's arms. No matter who could ask him, he only begged for a bit more of time. He was not ready yet, and it was hardly to think he could ever be. It was not until the night, with the last colourful remnants of the day in the horizon, when the Dolmari finally could let her go, or at least, try to.

The possibility of being left behind had never occurred to him, not even in his nightmares. He always had seen her as someone that would be always there, alive, smirking while teasing him, no matter what. Now, he had to face a world – to fight for a world – in which she was not there anymore. A world that had acquired a purpose time ago thanks to her, but now, it faded like ashes. What would make him keep on?. What would let him get up everyday, knowing that she was gone forever?. 

 

Carefully, he placed her pale body on the boat and arranged her hair. It was the last time he would touch it. After a caress on her cold cheek, Likho stood up and pushed the boat to the middle of the Swamp. Slowly, the rest of the boats surrounded her, in order to give their last goodbye.

Na'ane gave him a torch, and he stood there, observing April, memorizing her figure for the rest of his life. If only he could be allowed to stop time in that moment and to remain there forever, in front of an April that looked like she was slept. If only she were slept.

With trembling pulse, Likho approached the torch to her robes, and the fire ran quickly through them. His heart burnt and turned into ashes as she did, and remembered a voice he would never listen again, repeating a single phrase over and over.

_Sometimes one feels like it's time to give up._

He closed his eye tight, angry and scared of his weakness, of his loss, of his entire life. Where would he find the anchor to resist from now on?. How was he going to continue when her figure there, turning grey and dusty, made him give up.

“April.”

And he blinked. He blinked many times as rebel tears fell in the swamp dirty waters.

He was not sure what type of person he was anymore.

* * *

 

In three weeks they moved the former Swamp City far beyond the borders of Myria. The place was even more complicated to access to, and it had several trees that make the any fly attack harder to accomplish. They re-built a short part of the new Swamp City, and left to the Enclave, leaving some survivors in the new settlement to continue with the process.

The morale was a diffuse foam. The taste of defeat was in everyone's mouths. If all of them were continuing with the cause, it was because there was not any other alternative. Shephred had decided to remain as leader, but during the first month she barely could think or talk. She was most of the time lost in memories, remembering past times that would never come back.

Likho had wasted the first weeks too silent and sad, locked in his room. Somehow, he had returned to his old scared self, trapped in darkness, waiting for a torturer to come. At night, some memories of suffocation awoke him suddenly, fighting for his lungs to breathe. Then, he spent the rest of the night trembling, imagining the threatening and phantasmagorical sound of armoured feet knocking in his door. A nightmare without end.

The older rebels began to worried about his behaviour, wondering how long the Dolmari would resist to become that dangerous assassin that had almost killed one of them time ago. April was not between them anymore to stop the beast thirsty of revenge that Likho could turn into

Bachim was the only one speaking aloud and actively warning people about the ticking bomb that the Dolmari could be, informing to the new recruits about how to avoid the Dolmari's anger. Everyone remained wary about him, rejecting his presence when he barely was out of his room. The only one brave enough to deal with a potential berserker Dolmari was Enu, who listened thoroughly Bachim's narration of Likho's past that she did not witnessed, but she hardly could believe it.

Decided to recover her friend, that evening Enu took a ration of food, hot tea, and went into Likho's room.

The first problem she faced was the door. It was locked, and even though she knocked several times she only received silence as an answer. However, that was not going to stop her. Her skills in picking locks turned to be useful. With a self-satisfied giggling, she entered into the dark room, receiving a disappointing sigh from the man. The place had a strong herb scent, a sign of stale air in a room inhabited by a Dolmari. Likho was sat in a corner of the bed, curled against the wall, nailing his fingers in his own arms.

“Go away”, he said. His breath was a mess, proof that he had been a victim of a recent suffocation attack. 

She put the meal and tea in a side table, and walked towards him, still keeping a prudent distance. “ I'm sorry. I won't. I've brought you food.”

He looked at her with anger; an anger cultivated in those bitter weeks. “Go. Away.”

“I. Won't. If you want me to go, then make me.” She blinked twice, surprised of that bravery she was showing off in front of a man that could kill her by using a single hand.

Likho sighed and put his forehead against the cold wall, giving to her most of his back. It was impossible for him to gather himself, to show something that could not be that weak, lame shape. Loneliness was preferred over a couple of eyes, looking at him with such pity.

Perceiving the man was not going to get angrier from what he already was, she sat slowly in the edge of the bed. “Likho, you can't continue like this.”

“Mind your own business.”

“Right now, you are one of them. “ 

He grumbled.

She tried to touch Likho's back, but hesitated. Instead, she through herself in the bed, put her arms behind her head, and looked at the ceiling, in silence. She moved her legs sometimes, unable to keep quiet for long. She had to think carefully what words to choose, once in her life. If Bachim's stories were real, and she had no doubt about them, her life could be in danger if she touched the wrong buttons. However, she remembered that stormy night and could not believe those stories completely. That blue big man was more than anger and violence.  “ I know it sucks to see your people dead. But you can't just abandon yourself to death. Remember what you told me once: Use this feeling against them.”

“Over, and over, and over...” neither of them moved from their places. “That's what I've been doing all my life. But it's never enough. Loss. Blood. Pain. All that death, all the time. You never get used to this. Never. And the culprits are always the same. The fucking same Azadi. What an irony... it's never enough.”

Enu frowned for a second, and sat again in the bed, looking at the man who was still resting against the wall, sometimes trembling, sometimes hugging himself tightly. “What do you mean?”.

“Shepherd didn't tell you?. It's always him.” She was lost in the meaning, but pushing further would be counterproductive. She just waited silent. “Walking across my life to destroy it again. To destroy the few things we have, the few things I have. _I had_.” he swallowed hard, “Over, and over, killing him in any gh'azi I've killed. But this has reached far enough. I swear I'll destroy him. For April.”

“Who you are talking about?”

“Alvane. Apostle Alvane” his teeth ground. “He will paid for this, for all that he has done in my life. In my people. I swear it.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any suggestion or correction will be appreciated.  
> I don't have betareader, so please help me to improve the chapter by sharing any correction you may see important or by pointing me out sentences that are hard to understand.
> 
> Thank you very much.

“Do you think this is right, Shepherd?” a rebel Zhid asked her. By his side, there were three humans, moving their hands nervously, squinting while hearing the screams coming from the underground. 

“I tried to stop him, but... in this particular situation is quite delicate” another heartbreaking scream made Shepard close her eyes tight. 

“I'm... I'm sorry, but I will quit.” a human from the group said with trembling voice. Another man joined her. 

“We can't wait idly until we turn into this mad man's toys. We thought he had recovered his mind time ago... but... considering _this._ ” 

Another scream cut the atmosphere with a wavering voice asking for forgiveness. They had to remain in silence for a couple of seconds.

“I... I understand. But the cause...”

“We will try to help you on the surface, but we can't stay here any longer, Shepherd. We never tortured a man for more than a day... and he has been doing that for a week. And did you see in what way?, did you look at him in the eye?. I'm not sure if he is the man we knew.”

Shepherd lowered her head, “He found out sensitive information that... needs-” another scream, followed by a chain of small cries asking for a merciful death. “-confirmation”.

“What the fuck is happening? I've been listening those screams before entering the cave.” Enu jumped up from the stairs, and looked at the small reunion gathered in the HQ.

“I know.” Shepherd said with a knot in her throat, still looking down.

“Who is doing that?” Enu asked knowing the answer beforehand. 

Suddenly, the cries stopped, and the creaking door of the torture room opened. All of them looked at the stairs, nervously wondering what kind of figure would appear. 

They observed the man that had a deep frown on his face, and stains of different shades of red splattered everywhere on his body, contrasting with his dark blue skin. His hands were completely red, and part of his white hair had dry blood among the strands, as if he had run his stained fingers through it. An unusual and terrifying yellow colour was glittering in his eye, showing an angry emptiness in it. If the emissary of Death could be embodied by someone, it would be Likho without doubts.

The bloody skinning kit was pending from his belt, making Enu shiver. She never had thought about that kit in  _that_ way. Unable to accept the implications transmitted by that bloody Dolmari whose eye was giving her a deadly look, she only could move her lips in a silent plea. That man was nobody she had met before. He was not the grumpy old Dolmari, whose biggest threatening was a grunt or a scowl. He was not the friend she had found that night, in middle of the storm, smelling to herbs in a warm bed. Nor he was the wretched thing that a couple of weeks ago was dying in his dark room. 

That thing that she was observing now was but a  _monster_ .

And her thought was tremendously obvious that Likho could read it easily. He looked at Enu in the eye, with hatred, with nauseas, with bitterness. Even anger. He knew quite well those eyes that were judging him with that powerful and painful word in mind.

_Ga'andaar._

_Beast. Creature. A monster slave of its own lower desires._

But even though he wanted to kill her, to destroy anything that could dare think of him that way, he could not do anything.

It was Enu.

Instead, he averted his eyes and looked at Shepherd accepting with such gesture, for first time in his life, that cursed word. That word had been entangled with his soul for so long, in so many different moments of his life; it was a burnt mark that was going to last forever. It was a word that was part of him now.

After a long silence, Shepherd finally spoke, “Likho... you weakened our position by bringing a high ranked officer to our hideo-”

“He won't be a danger anymore”. His voice was huskier than ever. The three humans who were present there, gave a step back. The Dolmari was increasing his tension quickly.

“Oh... you... Don't tell me you...”

Likho stepped towards her, “What?. He tortured Magicals for years. I found him doing... an atrocity. He paid his debt in blood and suffering. I've done what had to be done, what nobody here would do.”

Enu's face was distorted in terror. “You-You... have just tortured a man. How... how could you do  _that_ ?” He tried to face the Zhid, but it was impossible. He could not bear the reflection of horror in her face. It was the same gesture he had shown once when, as a child, he saw his father's murderer. He looked down and frowned. “Likho, you were tortured years ago, weren't you?. How can you repeat that-”

“You don't understand. Neither of you.” He lifted his chin and glared at the leader whose sharpening eyes were full of rejection. “You want to win a war in which they outnumber us ten times. We hardly can find supplies for our weapons. We starve, and our wounds fester, yet you all talk fancy, pretty words. But it's only that. _Words_. We _have_ to play dirty, whether we like it or not.” He looked at the humans who were behind the rebel Zhid. “If your sensibilities wouldn't have been so fucking fragile, maybe we would have never lost what we had in Myria.” Shepherd closed her eyes and swallowed. “This is war. A war we never ask for, but we have to fight in, because there is no choice for us. And we are losing” he walked towards Shepherd and both remained silent for a moment. “ _We are going to use any tool we have_. You said it before-”

“I know what I've said” she interrupted his words, angered. 

“Any magical can be thrown into suicide missions without blinking an eye, but everyone is shitting their pants when an Azadi scum is crying?”

“It's not the same in the slightest.” she crossed her arms and frowned. 

“You weren't there, in Ge'en”, he said as Shepherd raised an eyebrow, never giving up on that dreadful amber eye. “We never would have reached this point if some of you could have done what had to be done years ago.” He turned over his heels and walked away slowly. “So, spare me the judgement. You are in an easy position.” 

However, when Likho passed by Enu, she grabbed his wet, bloody arm, and raised her wavering voice, “But...B-but you are not bad, Likho. You... that stormy day...you. This is not you. How can you enjoy this?”

Likho did not turn back, instead, he kept looking at the ground. “What did you want me to do, Enu?. To let an Azadi officer go free, knowing our location? To keep him rotting into a cell, and risking his escape? Or maybe your solution was to let him there, where I found him, raping a Zhidling? Should I leave him finish? Just look aside?.” Enu remained silent, loosening slowly the tension around that bloody arm she was holding. “I imagined so.” he sighed, pulled his arm, and walked away. “I' need a bath. Shepherd, I'll talk to you later about the information”.

Enu observed her hand. It reeked, and the wet crimson liquid had remnants of black things she did not want to guess. She felt nauseas and looked at Shepherd. “Is... is that true?, what he said about the man. Where he found him.”

“If he said so. Likho is many things but not a liar. ”

“Do you really think this is necessary?” the rebel Zid, who had been the shield between that angry Dolmari and the three humans, finally asked her.

She sighed. “We are in a narrow corner. Sadly, he spoke truth. He is the blade that does the dirty work we don't want to, but we have to. Everything for our people's sake” she whispered, trying to convince herself with her own words, but hardly doing so. The humans looked at one another.

“So, we need to become like the Azadi?” Enu spat.

Shepherd looked at the young Zhid, pain twisting her face, “Are you aware about how unfair is that comparison?”

“Well, I see torture and death... that's not so different from what the Azadi-”

“Child. They are out there with a whole army deciding over our lives without even asking us. We live hidden like rats, we are used like expendable things, they kill our children” her voice trembled, “we are dying, they are killing us.”

“So... you agree with Likho then. _With his methods_.” Enu insisted. She was not sure what kind of answer she wanted to find. She was angry at everything, while the image of a Zhid floating in a river was flitting around her mind from time to time.

“I don't. Not completely. I'd rather prefer to use all the alternatives before... _this_.” she sighed. “But what's done is done. Now we need to go on.” She looked at the humans, “I'm sorry for this unfortunate episode. Desperation makes us weak. I understand if you want to leave, and help us from the surface. It will be tough to be in here from now on”. The human group bowed a bit as a gesture of gratitude towards the leader, and turned over their heels, heading to the stairs. 

“I can't believe Likho enjoys this...” Enu whispered, still observing her hand.

* * *

 

He had taken a cold bath and had a short talk with Shepherd about the information he had gathered from the already dead prisoner. Immediately after fulfilling his duty, he left the Enclave. He was sick of that place, or maybe of himself.

It was late at night. The usually living streets close to the docks were now dark and silent. There were only some rats around, eating the crumbs left under tables after a long day. Some guards were in the corners, too sleepy to have enough will to follow him, but he could not be so sure that it was the case for every guard. Even though his mind was warning him, he simply kept walking carelessly through the streets, not knowing if he had caught unwanted attention. A Dolmari alone at night was an easy prey for any group of bored guards. But he did not care. In fact, there were few things that he cared about now. And they were fewer and fewer over time.

His errant walk was a desperate search for shelter, a shelter he had lost months ago in a swamp. Now, living was more unbearable from what he had ever thought; the truth was impossible to deny, he was missing her, wildly, painfully, uncontrollably. She used to bring so much sanity in his life.

Street after street the images were mixing in his mind: The man he had just tortured, screaming in pain in a way he would have paid with his other eye just to see Apostle Alrik in that place. His father's corpse, in front of that young Apostle whose name had been slip out during the torture session. The burning desire to kill slowly all and each Apostle of the Empire. And in the end of those mental images, Enu's disdainful eyes.

He stopped and looked around. Without knowing how he had arrived, Likho found himself in front of the Salty Seaman. Sadly, the tavern had been closed permanently since that bloody event, and the Journeyman's Inn had found the same destiny recently. He could not even find a weak illusion of a shelter anymore.

He closed his eye for a moment, and leant his forehead against the closed door, when a human hand touched his shoulder. With a suddenly awaken survival instinct, he was dragged into reality, draw a dagger, and turned over to his enemy prepared to kill whoever was there. But his face softened when he saw nobody else but Ulvic, showing at him his empty hands as a gesture of surrender.

“Fool. Do you want me to kill you by accident?”, Likho said sheathing his daggers.

“I'm sorry, you looked like waiting for the tavern to open. It won't.”

“It seems so. What are you doing here now?”

“I'm arranging the new tavern. It will be opened in a couple of weeks. But... without the same dynamics, you know. Everyone comes, drinks, and goes out. _Just drinks_. I don't want more troubles.”

“I can imagine.”

Looking at the Dolmari so down, Ulvic patted his back,. “Do you want to be my first customer? The whole tavern for you.”

“Will you still serve the same ale? That fucking piss you sell as Dolmarian.”

Ulvic laughed softly, “Mostly.”

They walked a couple of steps until they reached the new building, close to the old Salty Seaman. Likho awaited aside the door, reading the big sign: _Rooster & Kitten_. He sighed. He always detested those ridiculous names.

After a long creaking sound of an old door being opened, Ulvic invited him to step inside the tavern which was still under remodelling. The place was empty. It needed more tables and seats, a better decoration, and some planks of wood: several parts of the walls were rotten or eaten by pests. But Likho could not complain. It was a place good enough to forget all those images that had been attacking his head since the moment he left the Enclave.

Ulvic reached the table with two glasses and a big demijohn full of alcohol. “Mind you?” he said while sitting in front of Likho who simply shook his head.

The publican observed every movement of the man, and he could not help but being worried. He had been trained over the years to see the gestures of those that were close to the end; those who were writing the preamble of their absolute abandonment. “What happened? Lately?”

Likho did not started to talk until his seventh glass, but he did it in Dol'ave, that ancient Dolmarian language. Ulvic looked at him a bit disappointed. He barely could understand some words. At some point, he simply gave up and waited for Likho to faint over the table, intoxicated as he had never seen him before. Those usual Dolmarian barriers were all gone.

It was a pity that Ulvic never kept contact with the clients outside the Resistance circle; otherwise he would call that high-spirited Zhid that from time to time used to flit around Likho in the Salty Seaman. It was the only thing that came to his mind, to help that wrecked man who was now spread all over the table. But he simply sighed in resignation.

He walked at the bar, and went down through a downstairs to take a clean blanket from a hidden room. He returned to the table, where the smashed Dolmari was sleeping, and put the cover on his shoulders. He set down the lights of the tavern, and went to his room downstairs, to finally rest after a long, complicated day.

* * *

 

“We have something to discuss. All of us.” Shepherd started the reunion, looking at any person close to the round table. “All we know that Resistance won't last longer if we do not take a critical decision _now_. Losing April has been a low blow. The sympathizers we used to have... well, most of them are... gone." She looked at Likho briefly, "I asked you to think alternative plans for the future. We need to change our strategy.”

"Well, we still have what we discussed last week." Enu said.

"Yeah, to be honest, it's the only plan we got. With a reasonable chance of success" Chawan added, looking down. He still could not overcome the loss.

"You can't be fucking serious, can you?" Likho grunted, frowning at Shepherd who kept her sight straight, measuring her resolve with Likho's.

Bachin scratched his own beard, sighing. He had supported the idea the previous week, when the plan had been discussed briefly. However, that reunion had been shorter than any other due to the sudden ire that had exploded in the Dolmari. “Do you have another plan, boy?. We need something that can work”.

Likho smiled bitterly for a second. It was almost impossible for him to believe they were talking about the same mad plan. "All the shit we have lived, all the suffering of our people, all our comrade's corpses in the bottom of a swamp, and you want me to accept this?. There is no human who's not thinking in any magical as a filthy creature, worth killing. No human has ever helped us without self-interests, truly. But this one would do it? Willingly?. Please.”

Bachin rolled his eyes, while Brynn and Chawan sighed aloud.

“April?”, Shepherd spat quickly, trying to strike right in the weakest point of the Dolmari to make him stop. “She was human, and she helped us without having any hidden interest.”

Likho looked down, knowing that even April had her own interests in the Resistance,“She came from another world, and got fucked up ideas in her mind. She doesn't count. But I'd like to remember you all who's the culprit for her death.”

“We need his help”. Shepherd said, ignoring Likho's complaints.

“Seriously?“ Likho clenched his teeth, leaning his weight on the table, his hands in the borders, nailing his fingers in it. His ponytail fell aside his neck.

“The humans that used to support us have just given up. It's more comfortable for them to follow the Azadi Order, their lives are safer with them than with us. But what about us? You should know better, Likho. You are a magical. We have no choice. You know we need them. Resistance is weak. We won't survive, otherwise. We need-”

“Are you listening to you?. Do we need a murderer?”

“I don't know how that adds more or less to his value as an asset. We are not priests precisely. You, certainly, are not.”

Some of his facial muscles twitched, “He killed my father, he killed the village children. He killed every magical that crossed him just because he wanted to. You despise my methods but then, you accept his?”

“He can be a symbol.”

“ _A symbol?_." He slammed the table, "a fucking symbol!. A symbol of our screwed decay. An Azadi, leading the fucking rebels. As if with April wouldn't have been enough!." Shepherd blinked in surprise, "If there is a fucked up symbol to show how submissive we have turned into, is _that_. Fucking rebels against the Azadi Empire led by an Azadi Apostle. What a pisshole joke. And you want us to throw our lives for him?.”

“He may be a strong symbol. Likho, you have to understand that Magical population is decreasing because they are killing us or kidnapping us to be thrown into the work camps. What do you suggest? Start recruiting magical children?. You already complained long enough when we accepted the group of Zhids from the East. So, we need humans, it's not a choice. Those who always supported the Azadi Empire would join us by trusting in one of them.”

“And are we so sure that we want former supporters of the Empire in our fight?. You are giving the Resistance to the Azadis. This is madness. Just madness.” Likho rubbed his face. Back in Intiqua-aba, Palevan had to do a lot of work for reaching his strategical position. Now, spies would be able to sit around the main HQ table without even a single test. The Resistance was doomed.

Shepherd kept talking, “only an Azadi would be able to convince them to stop supporting the Empire, if such possibility exists. We need him, to bring more humans to this fight. Many have abandoned it due to-”

“Yes. Blame me." He interrupted her words, "Blame me for all the humans that Resistance has lost. It has nothing to do with them being more comfortable with the Azadi Order, and it has all to do with me." Likho crossed his arms over his chest, and looked at Shepherd straight into the eye. 

“Because your behaviour, threatening their lives, is mere motivation.” She added.

Likho smirked acidly. “Look at the Azadi and their threats against us. It looks to me a hell of a motivation.”

Shepherd's face turned aggressive. “As a leader, I can't indulge myself into such childish behaviour. Do you think of yourself smart enough for leading, Likho? Do you want to lead the Resistance instead?. Go ahead.”

He rolled his eyes. “No. But Shepherd, this is the first time I'm listening such bullshit from you, and I'm tired. We all are tired of losing every fucking time we give a step forward. Inviting Azadis to the Resistance is  _wrong_ . It will get us killed. And what for?. Just to retain humans that would have abandoned this cause anyway. Even if I were licking their arses. And you know it. Humans are safer on the Azadi's side, not in this one. But no, I'm the only one to blame. Let's open the Resistance to all the Azadi who want to join us. Do you think that arse Vanom may join this reunion to help us with the Resistance? Because clearly we are so fucking screwed.”

“Can you stop taking this so personally?”, Shepherd extended her slender fingers on the table surface, and somehow, she projected a sublime leadership aura.

“NO!." In a sudden movement, he slammed both palms on the table, and leant all his weight, frowning defiantly. "I can't. I won't. Because it _IS_ personal. I was born in the land they invaded. I saw with my own eyes how my people was slaughtered under their fucking city walls. My father was who died there. I was tortured by them. Look this.” he pointed out his empty socket “This is theirs. So, yes, I'm taking it bloody personally”.

Enu was observing the heated situation while covering her mouth with both hands, for first time completely unable to cool down the argue. Na'ane was looking down at the table, while Bachim, still nervous for any surprise that the Dolmari could give them, was tapping his fingers on his sword's haft.

Shepherd and Likho remained in silence for a couple of seconds, looking at each other with anger, with defiance. Leading Likho was sometimes even harder than fighting the Empire.

Finally, Shepherd sighed and looked down, just to fixate her new calm sight into Likho's; “I understand. But we have no choice. Besides, it's not a mere symbol” She said catching Likho's attention, who softened his face and squinted at her. “There will be some movements from Sadir that, if we gain his trust and his cooperation with the Resistance, may have a chance to become powerful. Weakening the Empire by breaking their most sacred symbols will lower their morale. That will help powerful Resistance nodes from Sadir. There are many in the Empire who still believe in the Apostle. Even if he is charged as a traitor, he will be followed by many. And that's how we can corrupt the source of inspiration that allowed a whole Empire to raise.”

Likho frowned. “Striking to the Faith, I see. You want to _use_ him. Not to trust in him.”

She sighed. “Yes. It's the last thing that the Resistance will do. Our numbers are... few, and we need a boost. I'll do this whether you like it or not, Likho.” Powerlessly, the Dolmari hit the table with his fist, startling Enu. However, Shepherd continued with her leadership voice, “I'm asking you.... _commanding_ you to keep your word that you are not going to kill him, Likho. This is strategy. And I will keep in mind all your warnings, believe me. But you have to cooperate. _It's an order._ ”

“You have no idea what you're asking me, Shepherd.” He hissed in an angry, painful tone. 

“I know..”

“No, you don't.”

“You are not the only one who lost important things, Likho. All of us are making sacrifices after sacrifices. There is no end. I want to end this. A big plan, in a big picture, with far-reaching consequences.”

Likho sighed in a slow agony, and looked at the ceiling, giving himself some seconds to deal with his inner storm, “how much more are you going to ask me?, stop it, Shepherd. Stop it.” After a long silent moment, he looked at her. "Fine. Do as you must. I swear I won't kill him before the right time. Or as long as he remains faithful, which is hard to believe. But know something, Shepherd. You are risking the few best comrades to rescue a rat that will stab our backs. He is an Azadi, he is a traitor, he is not useful. And he will got us all killed.”

“That remains to be seen. I hope I can trust in your word.” 

“Never doubt it.” He whispered, but lowered his chin and his look was lost in the ground for several seconds, ashamed, feeling dirty. 

A grotesque sonorous sigh filled the silence, “Oh by Mo-Jaal shagging a priest. You two are worse than a constipation of weeks.“ Bachim said, finally relaxed, “So, rounding up... I'll free that motherfucker.”

Likho raised an eyebrow “You weren't precisely welcome when you tried to deal with the Apostle in Myria. Did you forget he almost cut your head off?.”

“It was not like that. It was a chaos back then. Shit went real, meh. Besides, I have some friends that tried to kill me, at least once. It won't be the first time, boy.” The captain moved his eyebrows up and down repeatedly, and Likho had to look aside. “The only problem is how to make him escape...”

The always silent Zihdmari spoke gently, “I could prepare a portal, activating it though your blood. But...it requires...”

“I know.” Bachim shut her down immediately, but he was not fast enough to avoid the Dolmari's reaction.

“No-” Likho interrupted, a bit lost in a sudden despair. This was an endless nightmare in which each one of them was taking the worst decision ever of their life, one after another, “-I won't accept this. Throwing good men to save the Azadi scum, who will turn out into a traitor sooner or later. This is madness...” he shook his head. “Shepherd, this-”

“It's not for you to decide what I do with my bloody life, boy” Bachim interrupted his words, smirking and winking at the Dolmari. “Accept it. There is a time in your life when you simply are ready. Just that. You'll see at your time.”

Likho observed him, silenced by those words, surprised and hurt. “The Resistance needs you more than that gh'azi shit”

“You know it's not true, boy.” 

The Dolmari observed each person around the table, and then to Shepherd, horrified. “Do you think he will join us willingly? Just because your fancy red fur?.” Shepherd raised an eyebrow, “We are talking about an Azadi, and even worse: an Apostle. What the fuck is wrong with all of you? Don't you know how they work?, by killing, slaughtering, murdering. Torturing Magicals to death, to break their souls, to force them to reject their gods and accept that fucking twisted goddess of theirs. The man killed half of Swamp City. He killed April. And do you all think it's a good idea to have him by our side?. To send our comrades to a sure death in exchange for that gh'azi?. Tell me you all lost sanity, because at least that would explain this,” he shook his head “I can't believe I'm part of a group of crazy berks like you all.” he gave them his back, ran his fingers through his hair midway, and looked at the ground.

“We know your loss, Likho, and we also know your relationship with this Apostle makes things harder for you to process.”

“ _Harder_. Just _harder_ , she says.” Likho added without turning over. Anger tingeing his tense voice.

“I don't want to defend a shit, boy, but during the assault, this Apostle could have killed me many times, but he didn't. I know this may sound as a shitty poor excuse, but I didn't see him killing April.”

Likho let his arms fall aside his body, and looked at Bachin over his own shoulder, "Oh, wonderful. You didn't see him. Now that I know this I'm willing to lick his ass and forget about everything I did see him doing." Likho said as Bachim rolled his eyes. Then Likho looked at Shepherd, "I'm only asking you to put me away of all this crazy shit. I don't want to be part of it. I-I can't, Shepherd. Give me a fucking break. I can't.”

“I understand. You will do some other missions with Enu meanwhile”

Enu looked aside, uncomfortable but accepting the task silently. She had been avoiding the Dolmari after the torture episode, a behaviour that had not been missed by the Rebel leader.

This way, Shepherd killed two birds with one stone, and put an end to that tensed reunion. Preparations for the plan were all what remained that day.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any suggestion or correction will be appreciated.  
> I don't have betareader, so please help me to improve the chapter by sharing any correction you may see important or by pointing me out sentences that are hard to understand.
> 
> Thank you very much.

Shepherd wide opened her eyes, blood tingeing her iris, and a rush of power stopped her words midway. She had to lean her weight on the table and breath slowly. She looked around, lost for a moment, as if she had shifted her mind to another reality, to another universe. A gentle hand held her arms. It was Na'ane's, whose voice asked for Enu to bring a chair, in which Shepherd could finally recover from the shock. 

Guessing the meaning of the sudden interruption, Likho crossed his arms over his chest and grunted. He gave his back to her, slightly leant on the table. "I imagine this must be the end of the reunion. Your precious butcher has just come." 

"Is it?" Enu asked, moving her ears up and down.

"Yes. It seems so." Shepherd sighed, still trying to get used to the sudden ripping feeling that a portal made of blood and life left as a wa ke in the fabric of the reality. Once she could stand up  ordered to find the newcomer in the Enclave. He had to be teleported somewhere close to her. 

 

They found the Apostle at the underground floor of the ancient building, in the training ring. The human was in middle of the practising section, aside the dummies, collapsed on a pool of blood that was spreading slowly under him. Without wasting time, they carried him to his recently assigned room. Shepherd and Na'ane began to work immediately, casting together intense fluxes of different type of magic that went in and out from the wounded body. With trembling hands and sweat running through her temples, Na'ane's timid powers appeared and disappeared all along the process, making the healing quite unstable. It was Shephard who was using all her power to maintain the soul in the edge of the living world. All her red fur was stood on end, guiding Na'ane's flickering powers with hers. Keeping him alive was forcing them to reach their own limits.

Outside the room, and perceiving the magical war inside, Likho was leant on a wall, barely chewing his ire. The same moment he saw the Apostle in the ground, the thought of breaking his promise had seemed quite tempting. 

The butcher's presence was going to be a challenge, a Trial by fire. He could not stop thinking in all the tragedy that blasted human had brought to his people, while observing him there, weak, almost dead; it was the opportunity he had dreamt during all his life. The sacred moment in which he would put his knife in that cold heart and would took that life away painfully, not without forcing him to remember every victim he had taken, starting by his father. An ephemeral image of Palevan, being killed by his own hands, filling his soul with relief and calm that only vengeance can provide, broke his train of thoughts.

Likho sighed. 

The intense flux of energy had stopped, and the air had a remaining mist of power all around. He wondered if the butcher had died finally, or his comrades had done a good job. 

He simply entered into the room and observed the scene with a deep frown in his face. He could only focus in that wounded man, ignoring the healers that, exhausted, looked at him with a wary expression. They had used too much energy for saving a life that was again put at risk. 

That yellow, terrifying sparkle in Likho's eye, the spark that could set on fire his uncontrollable wrath, glittered in the same second he drew his daggers and pushed the healers aside. His hands moved faster than usual, as quick as they used to be before Ge'en, and pressed with the blades that vulnerable throat.

Na'ane only could gasp, averting her eyes from what she thought it was going to be a gory scenario, but something had stopped Likho's clean movements. As fast as him, Shepherd had grabbed his wrists, nailing her fingers into that blue skin. There was a red, deadly foam oozing from her hands as Likho slowly felt his energy being drained. He fixated his eye in Shepherd, and their frowns deepened in a tense, thin silence.

“Why do we keep him alive? He's the enemy." he said, his voice wavering a bit due to the energy loss. 

"You promised it. Likho." She said, squeezing his wrist even more.

Slowly, he took distance and sheathed his daggers, looking with anger and revulsion at the human. "When I do kill you, you will feel every twist of my blade as your life drains away. Your pain and shame and dishonour will serve as my vengeance. And I will be there, to witness your soul departing for the nether realms. In the end, you will have to face your sins, and you will pay for them."

Covered with goosebumps, Na'ane left the place, fleeing from the Dolmari and his echoing words.

* * *

 

Tensed jaw , tight fists at his sides, and that terrifying yellow glitter reflected in his eye, Likho was walking around the table of the main HQ. By Shepherd's side, Brynn was giving them a full report of the consequences of the rescue: the number of deceased, the disappeared, and the wounded. He could not help but feeling nervous at the sight of the Dolmari, walking back and forth; the ticking bomb embodied by that big man was hard to overlook for most rebels after April's death. He was afraid that the news about Bachim, the explicit ones, even though they were already known in an unconscious level, would spark the disaster barely restrained in the Dolmari. 

“That's all.” Brynn said avoiding the details. Neither Shepherd nor Likho needed them after all.

“Where is Balsay?” Likho's hoarse voice tensed the young man, who looked at Shepherd asking for help. 

The leader, tired of the whole situation she had been dealing with since the day they decided to rescue the Apostle, put her hands on the table, and glared at the Dolmari. “You know well.”

Likho frowned at her. “Are we not even going to take his body? To give it to the Sea, as his Mo-Jal God asks for? Not even  _that_ ?”

Shepherd softened her expression and relaxed her voice, “ Please, Likho...”. More than an order it was a plea. She was so exhausted. 

“Fine. We had to rescue the butcher. I know. I was just asking if there was a single thought to share for one of us. One who was by far worthier that this murderer we are feeding and healing now. He should rot to death, what a waste of resources.”

“We talked about this, Likho. I hope-”

“I know. I won't kill him. I'm just...” he said calmer, and looked down for a couple of seconds, “...I wished Bachim wouldn't have died. We keep throwing good people to death in worthless sacrifices...”

“Good people? Funny to heard _you_ saying _that_ about a human.” Likho sharp eye raised in a sole movement to the owner of the voice that had just joined them. Bigger than the Dolmari, Chawan smirked at him while approaching Brynn. An unspoken rivalry for April's feelings had bittered Chawan and Likho's relationship for years.

“Go figure how worthy he was….” tired, Likho let the taunt die there, and he walked away. The reunion did not required his presence to continue, after all. The reconstruction of the Swamp City was something he got no interest. Another element in his long list of things he had lost interest in. 

He passed by Na'ane's side, who was ready to departure with the others to the Swamp City, and their looks crossed for a second. A second that Na'ane could not maintain, and looked down, terrified.

* * *

 

"Sooner or later I will spill your blood, just like you have spilled the blood of my people for generations." 

The voice echoed in his mind when he put his new clothes, and the touch of the fabric sent a sharp pain through his ribs. He remembered that big Dolmari throwing his father against a wall, stabbing him slowly, and then, laughing at his father's pray. 

_Kian, run away. Run._

His father was chocking with his own blood, yet he kept begging him to run. But he could not. 

Back then, he was less than three years old, and his father's guttural plea remained in his mind ever since. He remembered the panic inside him, paralysing his legs, numbing her body, forcing him to cry. 

The tears did not censured the image of that Dolmari approaching his barely alive father and cutting his throat in an effortless movement, taking away any small chance of survival. 

That big blue monster cleaned his knife in his father's shirt, and looked at him with a white, twisting smile. His hoarse voice echoed in every corner of his head, "You made me who I am today. And some day soon, I will unmake you. Mark my words, butcher. Your days are counted."

He blinked, and the illusion of the past mixed with his current reality disappeared. He touched his forehead. Probably he was still a bit feverish. 

 

He could not deny that the list of dead in his career was long. Probably too long for his own taste. However, Likho's father had been one impossible to forget. After all, it had been his first kill. The episode was engraved in his mind, emerging in each nightmare, entangled to his own past and memories, mixed to his own father's death. The smell of the blood spilled over dry soil, the sound of nothingness when a life simply expires, the instant in which the wrath and the helplessness are one. His dreams kept bringing those elements back, but he never was sure which memory belonged to his father's death and which one to that creature's.

So many Dolmaris killed along the path and yet, those two events were impossible to forget and separate from one another. It was hard to imagine what the Goddess was trying to say to him through those memories. Maybe the taste of vengeance he had marked on each mission had annoyed her, and she had been trying to point this out all his life. Maybe it was only the terror imprinted in an infant mind that emerged every time he saw a blue skinned monster. 

 

The memory often returned with regrets, and sometimes with questions. Would it have been different if his mother had been alive?. Would he had entered into the Azadi army if his father had never been killed?. Would he had feel that strange sentiment every time he saw a Dolmari if that big one had never been killed by his own blade?. 

And once again, that first death had left a hateful yet regretful taste in his mouth. But he could not blame the Army. In fact, he was deeply grateful with it. The Azadi Army allowed him to leave his life in the streets, to eat daily, and even to take vengeance of his father every time he beheaded a blue creature. The Goddess may be not completely happy about the intention behind his actions, but he had done every thing that he had been told as a way to ask forgiveness for his not so pure motivations. 

 

Only now, after so much time in that cell to think about, he understood that the blood spilled back then was meant for nothing. It solved nothing, it granted him nothing, it taught nothing. 

No lifeless body could change the fact that his father was dead. No lifeless body would learn a lesson.

 

He sighed deeply, tortured by the memory as fresh as if it had been yesterday.

It had been a quiet morning outside the Asadir walls. A group of Azadi soldier students and his trainer were running through the nearby forest. That day promised to be a boring one, just training to maintain excellence. However, deep into the forest, they found the entrance of a small village of Dolmari. His trainer considered the discovery a good omen sent by the Goddess, and changed the schedule of the day; instead of running, he was going to take their first test of mental resistance: the first dead by their own hand. 

 

The trainer encouraged each boys to go alone into the village and teach the Asadi civilization to those barbaric creatures. One by one, after screams and cries, returned to the group, some of them with unfocused looks, but all of them holding blue heads in their hands.

When it was Kian's turn, the Village had turned into a big fuss, and some Dolmari were getting ready to counter-attack. He could not even enter, because a big Dolmari, as bigger and monstrous as that one that had killed his father, appeared before them prohibiting the entrance. The creature had a long white hair and a goatee braided beard . 

Kian could not wait for his trainer's order, and possessed by that ire stuck in the time, he yelled the name of the Goddess, and pierced the creature with his sword. Only when the body fell dead on the ground, he saw the terrified female creature behind, crying and screaming as it kept holding her pup, tightly. The little creature was probably as old as himself, but his yellow, disproportionate eyes lacked any trace of innocence. 

The pain and the anger in that Dolmari pup's eyes reminded him of himself, fragile and weak, as that monstrous Dolmari on the ground bleeding to dead reminded him of his father's murderer. The pleasure in killing him with the contrast of fear and ire he found in that little creature scared him. He drop his sword as his pulse trembled, and he heard a deafening silence filled with his father's plea.

_Kian, run away. Run._

The blue female ran into the village dragging the pup with her while screams in that malicious tongue started to suffocate the forest. He looked at the body, at his hands, at the bloody sword on the ground, and felt fear, as much as he has felt when he was three years old. 

He barely could remember his trainer's words after that. They had been some kind of congratulations, and some comforting comments to avoid thinking in that event too much. It was, after all, one monster less in this world.

 

He sighed, checking if his sword was firm in his belt. He pressed his ribs wounds and groaned. 

There were so many Magicals out there like Likho, with deep scars and festered wounds caused by his Apostle sword. 

Lovers, siblings, fathers and mothers killed in the name of the Goddess, creatures chewing the bitterness of the injustice while being told that _this_ was a needed sacrifice for purifying them. Parent-less children risen immersed in hatred and blood. Such as himself. Such as that one-eyed creature.

Maybe this mysterious and ironic chain of events was the proof of the existence of some kind of balance in this world.

He chuckled at himself. 

_Balance_ . 

Could it be more real and tangible than his Goddess herself?. 

He shook his head. _No_. What more could he afford to lose?. His people, his honour, his country. But his Goddess?. _No_. 

Forcing himself to stop thinking, he left the room to head the main room and to accept the assigned mission with that angry Dolmari and that gentle feline creature. Her name was Eru, or Esu. No, _Enu_. Probably the only one who could give him a bit of kindness despite his bloody actions.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any suggestion or correction will be appreciated.  
>  I don't have betareader, so please it would be nice if you can help me to improve the chapter by sharing any correction you may see important or by pointing out sentences that are hard to understand for me to rewrite. 
> 
> Thank you very much.

When they arrived to the Enclave, Shepherd was still outside, working in a mission, so their report about Kian's performance and the results of the mission were going to wait for a while. Uncomfortable for being surrounded by magicals, Kian excused himself to rest in his room a couple of hours. His wounds were going to be a good excuse during the following days. It would take time to get used to the idea that now he was going to fight for magicals, instead against them.

Likho followed the Azadi with his eye until his figure disappeared through the corridor and then, he observed Enu, who smiled at him. He could read that gesture as an enthusiastic approval. He simply grunted at her. That arrow catch had been absolutely raw reflexes. No more, no less. As a rebel, he knew there was never much time to think about in details, to process who was comrade from who was being tested. Out there, there was only a golden rule to survive as a group: defend themselves as quickly as possible. Annoyed by Enu's mischievous smile, Likho went to the Enclave's underground, not minding Enu's giggle on his back, following him.

 

For Enu, it was simply a good way to avoid boredom. The library had reached its limits long time ago, and there were no more new books to read. So, she changed her evenings of reading for some long bow practices in the Enclave's ring.

The arrow hit straight into the target, in middle of the very centre. In a corner, Likho stopped sharpening the sword held in his hand and looked at Enu, surprised. “Well done, Zhidling”

Enu huffed. “Really? Again?. Zhidling?”

He draw a tiny smile, proud of her. It was not only the certainty that she had learnt; it was also the trust in her future survival. For Likho, having Enu practising her bow skill was more lifesaving than all that bullshit read in the library. After all, an arrow was more likely to kill an Azadi than throwing a book at them.

He focused again on sharpening the weapon. He truly needed a way to relief all the stress of having the Apostle around him the whole day. It was hard to restrain his need of taking his well-deserved revenge, but he had a promise to honour, and in the end of the day, the Apostle had been true to his words. It had been worth the trust. For the moment.

He frowned, tasting that bitter, undeniable truth: they were desperate, and that butcher was they only chance, strategically speaking, for the Resistance to survive. The  _fucking symbol_ .

“It was impossible to guess, right?” Enu spoke aloud, all of the sudden, aiming her bow once again.

“Uh?” he never stopped sharpening the blade. 

“Kian.” she chuckled. “You know. About _that_. I can't believe it yet.”

Likho raised his eye and looked at her, just in time to see her arrow hit in the target, splitting the previous one in two. “What are you talking about?”

“You know. His no-interest in women.” Likho lowered his eye, and left the sword in the crate of the already sharpened ones, taking another blunt blade. “It's such a waste”, the stone missed the blade, and he cut part of his finger. A thin line started to bleed, but he sucked it quickly, and kept sharpening. “Because, damn, he is so gorgeous, if it weren't for his age... you know, I could-”

He stopped his movement for a second, “Enu.”

“What a waste. Well...” , she giggled “A waste for women, I guess. I'm sure he can-”

“Enu, enough.” He said, more uncomfortable than before. 

“What?. I'm talking to you because I want to know your opinion, it's like a chit-chat, why so much defence. Unless you...” she lowered her bow and moved her ears up and down. “wait... don't tell me...” she looked at him. 

Nervous, the Dolmari kept sharpening the weapon, overacting a bit to the point that the blade slid from his hand and fell to the ground. Metal sound echoed in the room, as if a heavy secret had just fallen, too obvious to be hidden anymore.

“Oh... so, it's true, isn't it?” Enu observed the clumsy movements of a man who had always been extremely precise. “You hate them.”

Likho's breath stopped for a second and swallowed his surprise. "Um..."

Enu's face changed into a worrisome one before continuing. “am I right?. You, you hate them, right?. I've been told most Dolmaris have issues with those things...”

“Uh...well.” the tension left his body, and with his recovered control , he looked aside, calm, as if any storm of fear and repulsion had never been set free, “I have my opinion.”

“Ugh, damn. Now you are going to hate him even more. And you were going so easy on him...”

He frowned, “I didn't go  _easy_ on him. Do not say that. He is a murderer, he enjoyed killing every magical he has faced.”

“And you aren't that way?”

“What?” Likho said louder than he wanted to.

“Of course you are. You enjoy that too, but instead Magicals, you do it with humans. I can't see how that makes him a murderer and you-”

Likho slammed the weapon onto the table, interrupting Enu's words. “We talked about this before. Are you comparing me to one of those fucking Azadis that run into our villages, killing and abusing every magical they come across just because they can do it?”

“I'm just saying that you enjoy killing people too. So... you are not so different from him.” Likho glared at Enu, who looked at him back, without fear. It was impossible for Enu to be scared of him anymore. She had seen the big beast once, and nothing was more fearful than that bloody creature. “Well, maybe not so similar _now_. But still...”

Likho raised an eyebrow and gave up in that fight of looks; he took again the stone and the blade, and kept sharpening it. There was always that piercing pain in his chest. A pain born from the disappointment. From the revulsion. A deep resentment. “Maybe you are right, Enu. He and I... perhaps we are similar.”

She smiled. “Well, he didn't catch the arrow, so your ' _reflexes'_ are better than his. That's a difference if that's something that makes you feel better” He glared at her in a futile threat, “You see?. You are going easy on him.”

“Ugh, I hate your mouth, Zhidling” 

Several steps in the floor up put a sudden end to their conversation. They left the weapons and went upstairs, not without Enu telling Likho to bring Kian to the reunion. His complaints were easily derailed by the cunning Zhid, and in the end, he had to accept the order.

Annoyed, Likho went to Kian's room, and without knocking the door, he entered. It was hard for him to hide his surprise at the scene he found inside: the Azadi was lying on the bed, with a book suspended over his head, reading in silence. The image angered him. He wanted to find him plotting some nasty thing, threatening another rebel, stealing; anything that could give him a good excuse to simply kill him. But there he was, reading peacefully.

“A butcher interested in books?”. Likho said after the surprise. 

With slow movements, Kian closed the book and put it on the small table aside his bed. Struggling a bit with the pain, he finally sat in the edge of the bed, and looked at the Dolmari just for a second. Immediately his eyes fell on the book's cover, “books allow you to live all the infinite possibilities that slipped away from you. All those lifestyles that never will be”, a sudden pain crossed his chest, and made him sigh. Then, he rubbed his face, “Uhg. Forget what I've said.”

“Hmph. Shepherd has just come. We have a reunion. Come.”

And as soon as the Dolmari had appeared, he closed the door a bit violently. Still looking at the book, Kian sighed full of tiredness and doubts. This new path was incredible hard, but the Goddess, or the Balance, had given this to him. There was no room for complaints, so he got up from the bed's edge, and went out from his room, closing the door carefully.

* * *

 

Several rebels took Na'ane's arms and forced her to walk into her cell. The stress of the situation had been erased, but Shepherd was still breathing heavily. Leading someone like Likho was completely exhausting.

“I'm proud of your restrain, Likho. I won't say the same of you, Kian.” She looked at the human, who only observed her in silence. 

“No. He uncovered the traitor.”

“We can't afford to have people eager to kill others” she said, squinting at Kian.

“I had made a promise. I was going to fulfil it.” Kian added.

“Promise? What promise? To whom?” frowning at him, Likho's voice went louder. 

“I've promised her, back in the Swamp City, that I was going to slit her throat the next time we meet. And I always fulfil my promises.”

“Kian, you are not the Apostle anymore, so I would appreciate if that habit can find an exception to Na'ane. I still need to talk with her, and decide what to do with her. However, I will take into account your explanation of the events. You can rest now, we all have enough emotions for an evening.”

Kian nodded and walked away, heading to the library. Wary, Likho followed his movement with his look. A mixing feeling were annoying him more than usual. Shepherd and Enu left the HQ, and he kept there, slightly sat on the table, with his arms crossed. Thinking.

He bit his lower lip, and sighed, uneasy.

Another magical betraying their own people. This had no end.

The image of Palevan appeared in his mind, skinned alive in that bed, dirty and repulsive; his screams reaching Likho's ears once again in what he considered the best symphony of pain and vengeance he had ever heard in his life.

That had been for Delkran.

This had to be for April.

He walked away, with his mind only focused in his skinning kit.

* * *

 

“Spit it out” Likho roared. “I need to know. Why? Tell me why!.” he had entered into the cell like a storm, as if his body were possessed by a demon. The rebel guards outside could not dare stop him. Not when they saw the skinning kit pending on his belt. They had witnessed what the Dolmari could do with it when out of control, and they just run away asking for help. 

Na'ane gasped and jumped on the bed, trying to take distance from that beast, pressing her own body into the corner of the wall. Her heart had stopped and only the image of the fury, that creature that she knew very well Likho could be, was all she can focus on. “Forgive me, Likho. Please.” she cried.

“Why should I forgive you? Why you didn't forgive all those people in the Swamp. Why you didn't forgive April!.” He shouted.

“I have no excuses. I'm sorry, Likho.”

He climbed the bed, took the piercing knife from his kit and put pressure with it on her corner of the eye. A small line of blood appeared when he spoke calmer, “ Oh, you are sorry, April is dead and you kept silent about this all this time. More than a year, and you are sorry. But how much better is now that I know you’re sorry?” he tried to push the knife farther, but he could not. Ge'en memories made his pulse tremble, “I trusted you. You are one of us... you  _were_ -” She kept looking at him, terrified, in silence.  “-a magical. Now, you are what?, A betrayer. Almost a  _ga'andaar_ , only caring about your own needs.”

“I do not truly seek forgiveness, but I have to say that it was not for selfish purposes, I think. Maybe half of them were, but I always thought in the people of the Swamp. They needed food, and medicines-”

“And now they are all dead. _All of them_.” 

She breathed Likho's hot exhalation, their faces were too close, and the pressure of the knife close to her eye did not stop. “I know... I would have accepted death if I I had known the prize of that bargain...”

Likho's free hand grabbed Na'ane's neck, the yellow spark glittering in his eye, “S top lying to me!. What was your real motive?”

“None!. Beyond that, Likho. I've already told you...”

“Spit it out!” he shouted again, as the door opened. 

“Likho! Enough!” Shepherd commanded. “Step aside!. _Now_.”

Likho's trance was broken, and for a moment, Na'ane could breath again, looking at the sudden transformation of the Dolmari into his usual self: a frowning man, impulsive and tired, but reasonable.

He put the knife in his kit and rubbed his face. Then, he looked at Shepherd, and behind her, he saw Kian, Enu, and the rebel guardians of the cell. Everyone looking at him as if he were a monster. However, before his train of thoughts could conclude in an infuriating memory, Shepherd's voice dragged him back into reality. “I thought you wanted her to be locked up for you not to see her. Why now-”

“I needed answers.”

“With your kit?” He looked down at his belt and sighed. “I won't tolerate this kind of behaviour anymore, Likho. We are few, we are tired. We can't afford _this_.”

He looked at her and frowned. “Sometimes I don't understand you. You let Bachim die for this shit to survive.” He moved his jaw towards Kian's direction, then pointed Na'ane “Now, you forgive this traitor who made us lost the Swamp, just because we are few. You let April died because-”

“ _Enough_!. If I did mistakes in the past, I won't repeat them now. If I hadn't enough commanding power back then to force April to come back in time, I have it now, Likho. And that's why I'm commanding you to stop this behaviour. We have enough of your anger. All of us are angry too. But what you can accomplish if we start killing to each other?. This ends now, Likho. Or I will end you.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Are you threatening me?”.

“No, I'm telling you I have no more energy to keep overlooking your dangerous behaviour.” He looked aside. “You need to understand that we can't afford this anymore. Do you understand?”

He huffed and passed by Shepherd, giving a killing look to the Apostle. 

“Na'ane, are you alright?” Enu said, getting closer. The Zhidmari nodded, still trembling a bit for the past intense situation, “Don't worry, I'll talk to him. This grandullón douche will kill my patience” she said, just before running away to look for Likho and give him a long scolding. 

Shepherd approached Na'ane and looked at her, looking for wounds, finding none. It had been only a tense moment. Then, she looked at Kian, who was standing there, observing silently the scene.

“There is so much pain and anger in him since April's passing.” Shepherd said.

“Were they...?” Kian asked. 

“At some point. Later, it turned into something deeper. He loved April with all his heart, his soul. Her death broke him. He is now an aimless blade, losing control from time to time. Not enough to kill one of us for a simple disagreement, but you can see... he will do it, someday” she saw at Na'ane, still fighting for breathing, sat on the bed. “It's exhausting. ”

“Someday...” Kian repeated. 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, any suggestion or correction will be appreciated. 
> 
> WARNING: Here starts the (not so small) variations of the canon. The first Raid won't happen in the same way as it did in the game, and it won't be followed by the immediate kidnapping of Bip. I've added several days in between.

The Zhid closed his eyes and exhaled in agitated pleasure, squeezing his arms around Likho's neck. A single finger deep inside and a gentle hand with enough stamina for keeping the exact rhythm made him reach the sweetest point of ecstasy. The guttural scream that bloomed violently from his guts was strangled by Likho's hand, putting and end to the sacred rhythm, but it did not matter, the avalanche of spasms and contractions were unstoppable at that point. 

It took him a while for recovering his breath. He observed the man, a bit annoyed by that hand that had drown his most wonderful moment, but he knew there was nothing to argue. Likho had always been too discreet for his taste. 

Playfully, he lifted a bit from the bed and looked for Likho's lips, but as usual, the Dolmari pushed him away gently yet firmly. He tried to bite his neck as vengeance, but in the moment he started to put some pressure in his kiss, Likho thrust him away, less gently this time. 

Frustrated, laying all over the bed, Merhdiv scratched the Dolmari's arm, drawing the muscles shape with his claws as his eyes ran down over that forbidden body. 

It had been that way since the first time; Likho always kept his clothes on. This peculiarity of the Dolmari was something Merhdiv did not mind at first, because what those blue hands could provide him were worth the peculiarity. However, curiosity was there. He had justified that behaviour to an excess of shyness, that only time would solve it. But the second and the third time they shared a bed, everything had been all the same. Satisfying, delicious, hot, but strange. Always those clothes on. The only bit of skin that he could enjoy was Likho's arms. No more no less.

He started to wonder if it had to be something related to his own fur, but it was unlikely. The Dolmari was good at exploring his body without feeling any kind of rejection. Of course, once in a while the grumpy blue man complained about the fur spread all over the bed or in his clothes, but Merhdiv simply laughed at it. He could not believe that a man detesting fur so much would lay with a Zhid for more than three years. 

Of course he did not accepted this odd fact without giving a shot to other strategies. He tried, more than once, to take advantage of the dizziness that wild hot nights cause in solitaire souls to unfasten the Dolmari's belt, to rip his shirt off while rubbing his body, to set him free from any shackle that could be restraining that odd man. Anything to break down any barrier that was preventing them to reach the highest level of joy. 

But always a pair of gentle yet firm hands stopped him. It could not be shyness. Perhaps, it was something else. 

 

Merhdiv sat in the bed, moving his ears playfully, and the jingling sound of his many earrings filled the air. He tried to kiss Likho by surprise, playing the game of catching the mouse, but it finished as soon as the Dolmari thrust him away. Insistence would only produce a more aggressive reaction, but what was the meaning of life without pursuing the forbidden?. The Dolmari was focused in cleaning his hands with a napkin. It was the perfect time to attack Likho's neck, but Merhdiv's jaw was grabbed by those hands, this time less kindly, as the grumpy man frowned at him. Merhdiv smirked in his broad mischievous way. 

“ I've told you thousand of times not to kiss me. And don't dare to bite me.” Likho said, still sat in middle of the bed. The napkin fell onto his lap. 

“ Why?, why you don't like it?” once free of the grip, the Zhid slid behind Likho's back, and coiled around his hips, trying to seduce him one more time with the sensual movements of his naked body. He moved his ears several times. Soft jingling sounds filled the air. 

“ I'm not that kind of person”.

The Zhid chuckled. “ _ Kind of person _ . So serious. What that even means?. Once, in the West, I was with a Dolmari who had the same attitude. Is it something related to any tradition?. It's weird.” he turned over, and rested his head on Likho's lap, never losing that smirk. “I bet it's something like ' _ you only take your clothes off once you are married' _ , right? You look like one of those types.” the Zhid laughed softly, “ You are  _ that _ kind of person , right?. Makes sense now”. 

Likho tensed his back, and looked at Merhdiv in silence. How could he tolerate such impertinence?. 

Accustomed to those long, deadly silences, and rude faces of the Dolmari, Merhdiv simply unbuttoned Likho's pants, just a bit, and without asking him, swallowed his length. Raw pleasure. A way to return the formidable night he had just experienced.

Taken by surprise, Likho drowned the loud gasps when his body shook, and closed tight his eye. Instead of rejecting that skilful, dry tongue, he lied on the bed, surrendered. As usual, one of his hands was tightening too roughly his own loosen white hair, while the other was grabbing his lover's wrist, to avoid his playful temptation to undress him. He was quite aware of Merhdiv's thousand strategies to make him falter. 

Instead of delight, his face was contorted in something else that was not exactly pleasure, but regret or guilt. Part of him was suffering the moment, while the other was uncontrollably eager to go further and deeper and harder.

Traitor. Like Palevan. The exactly same kind. 

He always detested how gently and willingly was his body for receiving any touch coming from the Zhid, but this was not new. It had always been that way: a corrupted body submitted to its bases instincts. 

Since teenage he had fought against it. That struggle in wanting to get closer other boys, to breath closer, to touch and be touched, to taste the peak of pleasure that only skin against skin could provide. However, the only way to stop such monstrous desires was  _ that _ image. 

The image of the  _ creature. _ The  _ Ga'andaar. _

A creature whose shape had been built over years of endlessness stories narrated by their wisest leaders. These ancient stories had passed over generations teaching them that certain wishes were too selfish for being tolerated. Those who put first their own pleasures over their own people were not different that wild animals, surrendered to their natural and uncontrollable cycles. They were creatures of desire, guided by their most base instincts, greedy monsters that only wanted their satisfaction. Gold, power, flesh. They wanted everything to themselves; mean and destined to become traitors in order to pursue their desires. They were anything but the shame of the First People; the corruption that, like the Plague, had the only purpose of destroying their nation. 

Likho could feel icy spiders crawling under his skin. They were the Treason that, like a disease, was spreading its festering nature all along his body, slowly corrupting every bit of him. It was what used to give him goosebumps every time he laid with a man. It was what provided him those strong yet sweet blows in his stomach when the pleasure was deeply entangled with guilt in the final moan of ecstasy. It was what fed the dirty feeling coming from his guts drowning his lewd groans in his throat. 

And once again, his body -a disguise of a Dolmari-, betrayed him when the Zhid moved his tongue  that way, and Likho could not restrain any longer as a husky moan escaped his lips, burning him from the inside. It was always the same. The same battle, the same thoughts, the same defeat. 

Likho freed Merhdiv's wrist and let his arms fall by his sides, panting. He looked at the ceiling, lost. It was so repulsive for him to enjoy. He used to keep clothes on just to lie to himself, to have a fake confidence that his skin was still his, to comfort himself that, at least, he was not doing this atrocity with another Dolmari. That in fact, this was an innocent game easy to be forgiven and to forgive. But he knew it. Deep inside, he knew it. It was only a tremendous lie. 

The lurking thought always tortured him after the peak of pleasure. That feeling of surrender scared him. He was like a defeated soldier, lacking sanity, that ended in the dirty temptation of betraying his people just to take what he fancied elsewhere, without duty or rules, because everything was already lost, destroyed, decimated. Because nothing would matter after the defeat. Because the surrender set the beast free under his own skin. 

Merhdiv licked his lips and sat by Likho's side, observing him with his sharp, big, red eyes. The Dolmari was a lover without peer, too secretive with his body and emotions, but still, interesting enough to keep him close. Sex with him was raw pleasure, intense and overwhelming, absolutely painless, without consequences in the following day. The man was certainly the perfect balance between a fierce and a gentle lover.

He rubbed his cheek onto Likho's chest, complaining mentally about the leather belts crossing it, but enjoying that charming fragrance anyway. A forest close to the ocean. That was the best description he could use to explain that natural scent in the Dolmari. He rested his face there, calm, waiting for the man to recover from something deeper than his tiredness. 

“ Did you have a bad experience time ago?” Merhdiv asked. 

Likho frowned, and finally lifted from the bed forcing the Zhid to move aside. “What ridiculous idea-”

“ It's not ridiculous” he smirked and once again tried to kiss the Dolmari.

“Enough. ”

“ See?”, the Zhid laid on his side, spreading his body all over the mattress, showing to Likho all his sensuality in the movement. “Sex is about kisses and skin, you know. Well, skin or fur, you can pick sometimes.” he laughed to himself.

“ Complaints?. I can quit looking for you.” Likho said in a brute, tactless tone while buttoning his pants.

“ Oh, perish the thought. I was just wondering.. why...” . The Zhid extended his claws in the air and caressed the naked arm of the Dolmari, wishing for more skin. 

“You don't need to kiss and be naked for stress relief, it's not needed to... go further” . He felt the blow in his guts.  _ Liar _ . 

“ Oh, I see. But it would be even more intense, more stress relief. And it's not big deal, it's almost like stabbing, but-” his smile widened “-without a knife. But well, I know you enjoy stabbing more with a dagger than… with flesh.” he looked down over Likho's body, cheekily, “Maybe killing for so long shifted your priorities.”

Likho frowned deeper. He hated the constant assumptions that everyone kept doing over him. What he liked, what he not, what he  _ enjoyed. _

He had spent all his life doing things he had to; it was impossible to remember when he had done something he liked or enjoyed by himself, if such things would have existed in his life after all. Maybe a diffuse image of April's face was all what he could relate to that, but it was hard to decide. He remembered how many times April had questioned his own decisions: were they what he wanted to do or what he had to do?.

But he embraced resignation over his reality. He had reached a point in his life in which the line between what others believed about him, what he had to be, and what he truly was, was thin. His life had been built through the lack of chances of being himself, through the pressures that kept conditioning him, through the always present idea of being a filthy creature. Mere live-stock. It was hard to decide when he could have conceived a desire free of the countless pressures born from those assumptions. It was even harder to be sure if such possibility was feasible at all. 

What he had to do. What he had to be. What he must always be.   
Resignation. That was all what he could get. After all, he was the blade that kept doing what had to be done. 

“ You didn't look disappointed early.” Likho said, putting all his darkest thoughts aside. There was no sense in thinking over it.

“ I didn't, it's true. But still I won't lie... I'm more than interested to try it. You should give a shot. It usually feels good. I will be the one spreading the legs...” The Zhid hissed lewdly his last words. 

“I don't think so. It's painful. ”

Merhdiv chuckled. “ Oh, so you did it at least once.”

Likho sighed. He hated to talk about personal views with Merhdiv. It was always assumptions after assumptions, sometimes even wild ones hard to listen without being angry. It was true that maybe, if he would speak out his mind instead of letting the Zhid fill the holes, everything could be more accurate, but there was no point in doing that either. Bonding with people was devastating, and April's grief was still too fresh. 

He stood up and straightened his pants. “I'm not interested in that. Stop annoying me.”

“ You could be such a good lover if you allow yourself to do it. Even more, I would be interested to turn this into something else than simply nights of stress relief, in that case.”

Likho chuckled. “Hmph. I'll make sure to never be interested in stabbing with anything but a knife.”

The Zhid rolled in the bed with a smirk, smelling the Dolmari fragrance all over it. “You are such a bad guy. You  _ enjoy _ making me sad.”

Likho arranged his hair in a ponytail, and observed the Zhid on the bed. Elegance and beauty were there, in that speckled fur, in his nudity, in the way his mischievous smile was wider, in the sensual movement of his body, in the refreshing jiggling sound of his earrings. Suddenly, his eye went unfocused. His mind once again crossed the lines he did not want to, and a strong feeling of revulsion struck his stomach as he remembered the shack in Sorrow's Throat and Delkran's lifeless body . 

It was the nasty, painful line between what was part of him, and what he did not want to become; what he had not to be. It was also the understanding that nothing would cure him from this. That after some weeks, he would return to a bed with a man, and would moan in guilty pleasure all over again. And he would feel those icy spiders beneath his skin, terrified and repulsed, but he could not do anything about it. Then, April's image appeared in his mind, and something between regret and relief pierced his chest. 

“Will I see you another day? I will be here until the next month. Then, I'll sail off.” Merhdiv broke the Dolmari's thoughts. 

“ I'm not sure.”

“You can contact me through Ulvic, he is a good man.”

“He is.” 

“ So, a goodbye kiss?, Maybe?” The Zhid knelt up in the bed and caressed Likho's cheek, getting close to his lips. April's intimate memories attacked Likho's mind, forcing him to simply ran away through the door.

“ I've told you. I'm not  _ that _ kind of person” he said leaving the Zhid behind. 

He went upstairs and left some coins over the bar table. 

Ulvic looked at him gently while polishing a glass with a dishcloth.  “ It's not needed. You two are good friends of mine, and he will leave soon. ”

“ It's alright. You didn't have to, yet you did it.” he said heading to the tavern's entrance, but stopped midway and looked at the publican. “Mind if I ask you to keep this-?”

Ulvic smiled, interrupting Likho's words, “ I'm always discreet. Don't worry.”

Likho nodded in a gesture of mutual agreement, but also as a gesture of defeat. Only then, the left the Rooster and Kitten.

* * *

 

That week had little to offer in terms of missions, so he had to kill time hidden in the Enclave. If he were in Sadir, he could spend most of his time by training in the sophisticated rings, surrounded by many aspirants to Apostle. After that, he could go to the public bath in the centre of the Palace, to enjoy not only hot water and perfumed soaps. Shows and theatre plays were often offered to nobles and priests, but the soldiers were allowed to assist to the entrainment during their resting time. At night, he could be part of one of the countless banquets, where the most delicate and exquisite food was offered, and he even could continue, in a more private place, what had started in the baths. 

But... he was not in his beloved land. 

The walls of the Enclave were full of cracks, that even when they were decorated by beautiful paintings could not conceal their lame state. There were also many stains on them, as a result of centuries of humidity in the environment, which gave to the entire place its particular penetrating smell. 

The Enclave had no banquets or entertainments to offer, and the small ring of training on the underground was not full of worthy adversaries but of a bunch of Magicals and some humans playing to do war with targets and dummies. And baths were the less suggestive thing that rebels had: two buckets of hot water in a small room aside the training ring, to be used only by one person at a time. The thought was completely disappointing.

So he focused on the only decent place that this destroyed base had to offer: the library.

As he was getting closer to the place, the air changed. From the usual salty humidity, it turned into a dry one, a smell of old brittle paper and thick ink. The sight of many shelves made his heart beat faster. All the ancient knowledge placed there, just waiting to be read. People who was gone long time ago, could come back to the living and explain once again what plants in Arcadia had certain healing properties, what monster could be killed with what ritual, and what process you should follow to produce the tastiest yam marmalade. A woman who had have a vision during her sleep, could turn it into a long novel to teach adults to believe in the Balance. A gifted child, even a magical, could share her poetry on several volumes as an offering of pain and love to her Gods, as a proof that they existed once. Oh, and those books, those wonderful books describing unknown lands placed far away, Magicals never seen before, cultural habits that forced him to think about and reflect on his own. So much to know, so little time to do so.

He was overwhelmed, even though it was such a small library. But it was likely that it would have been bigger in the past; now it was all what could be rescued after the Azadi invasion. The thought was too painful to bear.

He took a book called 'A Full Understanding of the Balance and the Vestrum Rituals'. The book was calling him, somehow. He sat in front of a table, opened the book, and lost the track of time. 

Out of the blue, a furry face popped over his shoulder and read aloud some passages of the page. Startled, Kian took distance in a fast movement and had the impulse to close that book immediately. After all, in Sadir, there were only books about the Goddess, to read anything different was an heresy, specially if you were not a scholar. There was no reason for an Apostle to read anything else.

Enu's giggle dragged him back to reality. "Sorry, I didn't want you to startle. I wanted to see the book.”

“ It's fine.” He put a long piece of paper in that page as a bookmark and closed it carefully. He could not help but caress the book's cover. In Sadir, he would have lost his head for it.

At the entrance of the library, Likho stopped midway at the sight of Kian and Enu together, and awaited hidden behind some shelves. His frown deepened in full rejection. They were too close to one another.

“ That one is quite interesting, right?. I loved it.” Enu said.

“ Did you read it?”

“Yep.  You know, when there are no missions and we need to keep low profile, there is no much to do around but reading. I've read all these books, most of them twice.”

“ Impressive. You are lucky,” Kian said, observing the shelf full of books, returning to the one he held with meticulous care. 

“ Lucky?.” She moved her ears up and down. 

“ I would like to spend my life reading books.”

Enu laughed. “The fearless Apostle, locked up in a library?”

He chuckled. “Don't you think that maybe, in another circumstances, you could have been another person right now?”

“ Well, I know for sure  _ what _ I could have been. A silly wife, breeding Zhids, in a farm. Everyday doing the same. Taking care of the farm, the kids, the husband. Ugh. I prefer my life right now.”

He observed the library at his front, “I would have liked to have the choice...”

She approached him and embraced his arm, whispering close to him, “when this war is over, you can do it. You can leave your life behind, and become whoever you want."

He looked at her, a sad smile curving slightly his lips, wondering if there were second chances for those who had been walking over piles of corpses and spilling rivers of blood, for those who had never given a second chance before.

A dry, feigned cough forced them to take distance suddenly. They turned over their heels and saw the sombre Dolmari who was glaring at the human while crossing his arms, "Shepherd wants us to talk about our next mission. Ulvic says there will be a raid tonight. We need to talk to him for details and to think in a plan."

"Good. Missions. It was about time, I was really bored." Enu said as she passed by Likho and headed to the reunion, but the Dolmari did not follow her. Instead, he remained in silence, observing the human while blocking his path. Tired of the confrontation with the Magical, Kian tried to pass around, but Likho stepped forward, giving him no chances to avoid conflict. 

Kian sighed, and finally looked at him. "What now?"

“ If you are trying to seduce her, just to earn her trust faster, and fool us all-”

“ Oh, by the Light.” Kian rubbed his face. He had thought  _ that _ topic had been cleared already after the first mission thanks to Enu's indiscreet questions. No. It  _ was _ cleared. This was all about the endless mistrust of this creature. “When will you stop this?, what do you want from me?”

“ Your head.”

“ Well, sure. But that will take time. And it won't be easy, believe me.”

Likho hissed his words, “ We can bet.”

“ Not interested right now.“ Kian sighed and tried to pass by once again.

However, the Dolmari blocked his way with his body and spoke in a darker voice .  “ Don't dare to use Enu for any-”

“ Likho. Stop that." His voice raised suddenly, and then went softer, "Why would I trick her? What for?. I'm part of the Rebels now whether you like it or not-", his voice faltered "-plus I'm a traitor for my people. I won't recover their trust easily, there is no way for me to do that. There is only shame. I just want -” he silenced his voice. It was too cynical of his part to ask for smooth second chances. He was lucky enough for simply staying alive to fix his wrongs. Besides, asking for chances to a man whose father had been murdered by his hand giving him no options at all was hypocrite. It was disrespectful. Likho's resentment and hatred were but Kian's own doing. Ashamed, the Azadi sighed and looked down. 

“ What? Speak Alvane.”

“Nevermind . It doesn't matter. I'm too tired for this.” he said, and finally passed by pushing with his shoulder the other man.

“And Bachim died for this  _ fucking symbol _ ?” Likho murmured forcing Kian to stop and look over his shoulder, “I want to make it clear one sole thing." Likho's amber eye flickered in that terrifying yellowish sparkle as he continued with his words, "I don't care your redeeming shit, Alvane. You are alive, here, breathing, but all those children you killed, whose lives you destroyed… you think they can care about your regrets? Everyone here is licking your ass because you are the fucking Azadi who suddenly turned up to be a  _ perfect _ rebel. Everyone had to sacrifice in your behalf. But not all of us have to clap your redeeming acting."

Kian frowned and interrupted Likho's words, "It's not an acting"

"I give a shit about it. But remember you are a tool. You are not a symbol I can follow. I'm going to kill you once this is over. Don't fucking forget that.” His whisper was violent and resentful, the wrath barely contained in his tensed body.

Kian was going to flee but the bitter tone in the Dolmari made him desist. An apology would suffice to start over anew?. Absolutely not. Some wrongs were far beyond forgiveness, and he knew it deeply. He was not sure what he wanted to say, but the words simply came out from his mouth, "I know. I remember. I won't forget. I refuse to forget. It's only that... after so many blood, I'm tired, and I want to  give up”.

Assaulted by the memory of a beautiful sunset and a thin line dividing the sea from the sky, Likho froze in the place and finally left alone the Apostle, who followed Enu's steps.

It took him a while to recover and join the reunion. He had to focus on the on-coming raid, but April's figure in his mind did not disappeared. He remembered those short conversations that now seemed such an obvious omen of her ill fate. His chest hurt. How many things he would give to the Balance for the chance of her being alive. 

 

“ You have to go and be careful.” Shepherd's voice dragged him back into reality. He had lost the whole discussion. 

* * *

 

The Intelligence gathered that night had not been poor, but it brought a bad outcome anyways. Ulvic's hints and the slurring words from that drunken Azadi soldier could have provided enough information to do a safe evacuation, but Likho's mistrust weakened the Resistance. That night the raid killed and kidnapped half of the Magicals living in the ghetto, and with them many rebels were caught. It was true that the Azadi troops had lost many in the process, but from a general point of view it had not been a significant blow. In fact, comparing the numbers, the Resistance got the worst part.

When the reports were communicated in the main HQ, Likho could not control his fury or maybe guilt. It was not his usual wrath, but an unfocused one. The man really wanted to kill somebody, but in fact, he wanted to punish himself for the failure. Only his own mistake was to blame.  
As soon as the full report ended, the Dolmari left the main floor and went to the underground. For several days nobody talked to him, letting him deal with his anger by using the training ring. At night, he left the Enclave until the dawn. Nobody knew where he was or what he was doing, and nobody was going to ask him either.

On the third day of fury, as usual, Likho was found in the training ring testing, in turns, different groups of rebels. He even asked them to attack him all at once. An excessive, strange training for the rebels as well as for the Dolmari.

That morning Kian was in a corner of the training floor, sharpening his sword while observing the peculiar scene. 

Zhids, humans, and only two Dolmaris were surrounding the man, wielding shields and sticks, walking around him, studying when and how to attack him. 

Several rebels tried to hit him but only one of them, a sly Zhid, could break Likho's left defence by grabbing his hair, loosing it in a wild mess and emulating to stab him with the stick. Furious for being taken by surprise, especially by his useless side, the Dolmari fought against the woman guided by his instincts, until he throw her on the ground. He moved his fist towards her, as if he were going to punch her face, but stopped an inch before her nose. With his wild white hair, half a mess, half soaked on his own sweat, looked around with ire.

"Is this how you defend your people? By looking how a fallen comrade is being hit?" He helped the Zhid to get up, and talked to her; his anger was not there anymore, "you did really well. You saw a weak point and you exploited it. But your comrades didn't do the same."

She nodded firmly.

The way that girl looked at Likho made Kian remember Anna. It was like that Zhid wanted to kiss him.  
Kian sighed in annoyance, remembering that awkward situation at the highest point of Old Town. It was strange for him to feel that way by such a gift. 

Back there, among soldiers in his dear Sadir, it was immensely appreciated to have the female attention once in a while. Women were as sacred as his Goddess, and so it was their gifts. That a female eye could spare a bit of their precious time in observing a man like him was a mundane blessing; the proof that the Goddess was rewarding them through women's little gifts for all the sacrifices done. 

Soldiers were far away from any concept of beauty, with their skins marked and damaged by countless scars, with their rude tongues that only knew about orders, with deep wound or limb-less, and more often than not, lacking sanity. 

Soldiers were not nobles; it was undeniable their lack of scholar knowledge, grace or elegance in their movements, which could be perceived as an appealing features. They were illiterate of the art of the conversation, and they barely knew about the sacred books; their knowledge could never be in the same level of an scholar's. Certainly, there was no reason for an Azadi noble woman to see a soldier as a suitable target for enjoying time in their presence. Even more, considering Kian's particular rude pragmatism and his direct way of speaking, it was natural for him to never got the attention of any woman in Sadir. That was why he always appreciated a compliment coming from female lips, but that was completely different to want to taste them. 

 

A thought followed another, and found himself thinking in that scared Dolmari girl that they had rescued several days ago. He could not avoid to remember the hatred and satisfaction obtained when he pierced that officer with his blade. Quickly, he moved his lips in a sacred sentence asking for forgiveness. 

To Kian, it was unbelievable that an Azadi could dare to touch the sacred body of a woman, even though it was a Magical's. That girl, like any other, was a manifestation of the Goddess herself. How could he have freed that man without a proper punishment?. 

He sighed remembering Enu's judging eyes when he explained what he had done. Was the Goddess judging him through Enu? Had he taken the right decision when he killed that man?. He moved again his lips in a secret plea for forgiveness.

The body of the woman was sacred. It was written in the Goddess' book. 

 

Another memory brought him a forgotten fragment of his past. It had occurred in the streets of Sadir, some years before he finally could earn the position of Apostle aspirant. That evening, after finishing his training, he was walking through the lower city towards the smith, when he heard a girl's screams. Chasing after the cries of the struggle, he finally found Vamon in a dead-end street, with crossed arms and an evil smirk on his face, observing his minions ripping off a dirty girl's clothes. 

In that moment, Utada's lecture voice raised among his memories explaining to him how the Godness had done sacred the women's bodies , about the ire of the Goddess when those were touched unwillingly, about the terrible punishment when doing so. 

He could not stand for. He ran into the group to fight against the other boys. After some kicks and punches, and a promise of retaliation floating in the air, Vamon and his minions disappeared. What remained was the the girl, still in shock, fighting against Kian while he stood there, accepting the soft hits until she realised that he was not a danger. Silent, he offered his cloak to cover her body, and extended his hand in the air. He could not remember nothing more about her. He could not remember why his thoughts ended in that memory either, but he only knew one thing: the women bodies were sacred. And he had punished a sinner by divine law.

Still yet, he murmured a sacred chant. He needed the certainty that he could be forgiven, at least, by Her.

The remembrance disappeared when the figure on Enu irrupted into his sight. She looked at him for a brief moment and averted her eyes immediately. In a deliberated and emphatic rejection, she headed to the weapon sector, took her bow and arrows, and went far away in the training ring, hitting the dummy arrow after arrow. 

By that time, Likho had taken a seat behind him, and observed the situation in silence while drying his sweat with a towel.

Kian sighed in frustration, tortured by his actions, by Utana's words, by every picture of the sacred Book appearing in his mind. But a strong aroma broke his silent penance. Curious, he sniffed several times at the peculiar, strong smell of something that seemed to be a forest around him.

“Fuck.  Not you too...” Likho grunted from his back, deepening his frown.

Stopping his work of sharpening the blade, Kian turned around and looked at him. The Dolmari was extenuated, which was expected considering the hard training performed for several days without stop. His muscles were still tensed, veins standing out, dark purple circles under his eyes, and each bit of his body glittered due to the sweat. His soaked hair was stuck on his blue skin. His intense yet tired amber gaze was dangerously sensual as well as it was the small drops of sweat still sliding through his face.

Kian had to look away while a memory of a wild night in Sadir mixed desires he did not want to have in that moment, and even less with  _ that _ creature. Instead, he focused on Enu again, who was far away, hitting the previous arrow with the next one, all of them in the exact middle of the dummy's head.

Then, Kian continued working on his sword edge, unable to stop the countless questions raising in his mind, barely interrupted by the sound of the stone along the blade. 

The figure of the officer being pierced by his sword, turned into that old big Dolmari he had killed during his teen. The sudden image made him stop as his hands trembled a bit, just for a second.  “ Likho”, he said, knowing the man at his back was squinting at him. “Was it right?” 

"Huh?", annoyance tinged his voice.

“ To kill that officer. Would it have been more useful to get him as an informant? Like Enu suggested?.”

Likho rubbed his face once again with the towel before speaking, “a nd leave free a child molester like him? To keep doing the same to other kids? Just because Enu said it?”

“I know. But, I keep thinking. Wouldn't it be a worthy sacrifice? Children sacrifices, of course, but to put an end to this war? After all, everyone is making sacrifices... some more often of what they would like to.”

The Dolmari grunted, “ There is a big difference between willing sacrifices made by adults, and children having to deal with sacrifices they don't know shit. They barely can understand what a war is about.” Kian observed him once again, admiring that tired, angry, sweated face, listening his words. “Did you have a voice in the sacrifices you had to do as a boy?, Did I?” he said glaring at Kian, but a second later, he averted his resentful eye, understanding his own mistake. Kian looked away and rested his hands on the table, giving to Likho a perfect angle to see his profile. “I didn't mean-”

“ I know.” Kian said quickly.

“Anyway. That's why I would have killed that bastard if you hadn't done. I'm sick of boys and girls being thrown as sacrifices for things they don't even understand. Besides.. .” Likho stopped his words, as if he was going to slip too much, and buried his face in the towel once again, to give himself time for thinking about it. 

Kian looked at him, curious. “Besides?”

He was reluctant to say it, but somehow, Kian's reaction, that little bit of humbleness he saw for a moment, encouraged him. “I don't want more kids growing like me.”

Kian tensed his jaw and frowned. Deep inside, he could understand. Both of them were the result of that endless war. He focused on the archer again, “Will Enu forgive me someday?”.

Likho throw the soaked towel aside his seat and stood up. “She will. Even though she would never stop bickering about the topic. Ever.” he walked past Kian and murmured before going upstairs, “I know it by first-hand.”

Kian looked down, sad. His sword was shiny, and its edge was deadly sharpened. He observed Enu, still hitting arrow after arrow, as a scent of forest and ocean made him lick his own dry lips.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, any suggestion or correction will be appreciated. 
> 
> Warning: From now on, I will start to get away more and more from the canon. I will add some extra raid and I will alter a bit the order of the situations, so don't worry if you read here that there were 2 raids against the Magicals and Bip was not kidnapped yet.

It had been three days of peace. Three days of endless nights of patrols around the Old Town, long interviews with any magical they met in the ghetto, but nobody knew or saw anything suspicious. Despite Likho's complaints, Enu spent all those nights walking alone over the city roofs just to spot suspicious activity. However, everything was too quiet for being good. The drunk soldier recently questioned by Ulvic did not provide useful information either. Beyond the sudden enthusiasm born from the in-coming festivity, there were not rumours in the street, and thus, a potential future raid was unthinkable. Maybe it was the calm after the storm.

Like any other day of investigation, Kian found himself sat in the edge of the Market's fountain. He was waiting for Likho, who had gone into the poorest part of the ghetto to get valuable information from families that sympathises with the cause.

Bored, he started watching the stores full of merchants doing their daily job. Whether humans or Magicals, they could not care less about the raid happened few days ago. Food was not going to be on their family's table unless they could sell their wares. With or without fear, they had to go on.

The view turned boring after a couple of minutes, so Kian observed the fountain. It had been there since forever, but he had never watched it thoughtfully. It was magical, hence he used to avoid any thought related to it.

After a moment, he touched that ephemeral bluish foam that calmly was oozing from the fountain's edges. The touch encouraged him to play with it, letting it spill down through his fingers. It was cold, a gentle smooth chilling all over his hand. And he was enjoying the sensation. It was surprising, because from all the people in the world, he was the last one fond to magic. Still yet...

The bluish magic seeped up through his arm to his neck, leaving a goosebumps path all over his skin. A pleasant guilty joy mixed with the most radical repulsion born from his guts. The indoctrination had been so successful that his body could still feel mistrust and revulsion against magic even after changing side, even after realising what was right from what was sinful.

He chuckled. He could have never thought of himself that, one day, he would enjoy magic. Or at least, would accept it around him. The sinful sign of the unfaithful was gentle, felt good, and was not meant to harm but to save. Healing magic had showed him that. Even dark magic could be used for honest goals despite its disturbing nature. Suddenly, Bachim's image pushing the sword into his own body stopped his silly play with the fountain foam. It had been a willing sacrifice. Still yet...

"Thinking in returning to your masters?"

Kian frowned at the deep voice that interrupted his chain of thoughts. He did not answer and simply looked at Likho. The Dolmari smirked, in a subtle, almost imperceptible way. It was the closest to a smile he could ever get.

Kian hardly could understand how the man had changed lately. It was as if the murder of that Azadi officer had given to them a common point, a shared aspect that made both of them to earn everyone's rejection. Maybe it was the case.

At least Enu's disdain allowed him to earn Likho's good side in a way. Of course, he was not sure if it had been a fair exchange, but his opinion was not relevant on that matter. Besides, he could not deny that Likho's daily threats had turned into a kind of bonding gesture; an annoying and aggressive one, but a bonding moment nonetheless. It was, after all, a twisted form to express care, even though Kian sometimes doubted about it. 

When Likho opened his mouth, as if he were going to say something, a tiny body behind him tripped and fell over him. Quickly as his reflexes usually were, Likho caught the kid by the shoulders and frowned at him.

"Hey, be more careful. If you bump into an Azadi soldier, they may do more than just scowling to you" Kian added.

Bip giggled as Likho looked at Kian with a kind gesture.

"I didn't meet you again after that night we did fire flowers" Bip said, sitting besides Kian on the fountain's edge. "What happened with the officer?"

“You knew there was an officer there?”

“No. The girl running away from that place told me. He was known as the Shadow.” the kid explained. There was a moment of silence. Interested in his reactions, Likho crossed his arms and observed Kian exclusively. "So?, what happened?" Bip insisted.

Kian blinked, and after a long hesitation, he spoke, “ I killed him”.

“Cool”, the boy smiled, “The Shadow was well-known in the sewers. He had a fame, and was hard to sleep knowing he was around. I've heard he had done bad thing to many kids, but mostly girls.” Likho pressed his jaw, and Kian sighed. 

The moment was filled with the usual sounds of the market. Bip skimmed around, watching at every merchant store to spot someone else. Then, he asked aloud. "Where is the Zhid? It's been a while since the last time I saw her with you. She was cool." Bip added, still looking around.

"She is not... doing missions with us anymore," Kian observed a store far ahead them to hide his frustration. Enu's disdain was hard to deal with.

"Why?"

“She... disagrees with the way we do things.” Bip titled his head to a side and frowned at Kian, waiting for an explanation. “We are a bit rude in our ways”.

Then, the boy turned to Likho and smiled, "Do you both follow Amada's path?"

The Dolmari chuckled. "You can say that".

"Cool. I want to follow it, too. When I grow up."

“Better not, Bip" Likho said, "it's not a kind path."

"What's that?" Hoping his question would not be taken as an offence considering how an outsider he was of the Dolmari's culture, and how little right he had for demanding explanations in those regards, Kian asked with a hesitating voice. But Likho's gentle look made him confident again.

"She is the God of War" Bip explained.

Kian blinked and turned to Bip, “Goddess?"

"No.  _God_ . She is special in many ways. She has red golden hair because that's the fire of her fury, and her skin is darkened by that heat. She brings Justice with her anger upon all those who spread lies, treason, and selfishness"

"She seems pretty fair to me", Kian added.

"She brings justice by torturing the unfaithful, soul and body are punished, while she cries on the inside", Likho's hoarse voice finished the narrative.

Kian took a while to rethink what he had just listened, "She cries?"

"It's said" Bip continued, "that she was the God of Compassion time ago, but she had to turn into the God of War because... well, I don't know".

Likho remained silent for a moment, hesitating. The discussion brought old memories of a severely ramshackle hut placed in a snowy cliff, back then, when he was younger and still yet not so broken and angry. He finally spoke. "Because you can't change the world with love and compassion."

Kian looked at him horrified, as if he had just said a heresy, "our Goddess can-"

“Save your words and look around you, Kian. Do you see your Goddess' compassion here?, Because all these pipes, these guards, this invasion to our lands don't seem to me like a symbol of compassion and love.” Likho immediately shut down his sentence with a gentle tone, quite unexpected for the topic. 

“But that's not the Goddess' doing-”

“It's the doing of those who use your Goddess to accomplish this invasion. So, your Goddess must know about it, don't you think?. Why does she not stop them?. Huh?. Maybe Amada couldn't afford that blindness and pretend to look aside while our people kept dragging themselves into battles, only wielding phrases of love. Maybe it was my own people's doing, and they changed her to inspire us into suicidal battles, so that's why Amada is crying. Why would you change a God of Compassion into one of War?. Maybe she is a symbol of why my people had to change so much in so little time, and at what cost. A cost that all of us endure on the inside”. His sombre words made his voice even deeper, and his look fell on the bluish foam of the fountain.

“Woah. You don't look like an inquisitive type of person” Kian joked.

Likho raised an eyebrow and locked his eye on him, a bit of anger raised from the sudden sadness that the topic had inspired him. “Oh, then I'm looking like what? Only an assassin type of person?”

"I didn't mean-".

Bip laughed at both, but his joyful sound changed into a roar coming from his stomach. He smiled shyly.

Without saying a word, Kian stood up and walked away. He went to a Magical's store and bought two sandwiches, giving them to Bip when he returned to the fountain. The kid smiled as he ate.

Kian rubbed Bip's head gently, “You weren't eating daily?. Go often to Ulvic's tavern. Tell him I've sent you. He will give you instructions.”

“Uh, sounds mysterious. I'll check!” he said, running into the dock's direction, still chewing half of his sandwich.

Likho frowned at Kian as the kid ran away. His mood still was stained with the slight anger that had been raised a moment ago, “What was that?”

“It's nothing.” Kian said, starting to walk toward Quay Shay, “time to come back...”

Likho squinted at the human, perceiving that ire smoothing gently in his soul, feeding an old, forgotten sentiment. There was so much alike April in that foolish Azadi. He put that odd emotion aside and followed him.

* * *

 

“I don't have to _'deal'_ with anything, Likho. I'm who I am, and no one has ever thought less of me because of it.” Kian said annoyed, looking far away over the Town. In fact, he was a bit angry. Rumours about Dolmari's customs claimed that they had a particular intense revulsion toward certain humans whose ways of loving would never result in offspring. Likho's question was a proof of such rumours, “In the eyes of the Goddess, it makes us no less worthy, it's simply how we are born.”

Likho huffed. “Your Goddess seems to be kinder in some aspects, I guess.”

Kian leant on the rail, and crossing his arms observed the Dolmari, whose eye was focused far away. A veil of shame seemed to cover him.  “Do y our Gods think different?”

“You could say that, even though...” he sighed. “I had a friend, Delkran. He was a scholar. He used to tell me that the way Gods are shaped is more related to massive control than spiritual nature. Sometimes I wonder.”

Kian frowned. “Are you insinuating that the Goddess controls my people by accepting them the way they are?”

The Dolmari rested his arms on the rail and looked at Kian. His ponytail fell to his side. “Do your people need children desperately? can they afford not to have offspring while their army increases?, is any dead in combat a step closer to extinction? ” due to Kian's confused gesture, Likho finally added, “The plague has done too much harm on my people. We were... _are_ desperate. Add the constant genocide that Azadi has been doing to my people for ages. We can't afford that _kindness._ Our gods can't afford that either", Likho sighed deeply and remained silent for a moment.

"So, the Goddess is kinder on that respect." Kian summed up, and before he could sink himself in his own thoughts, Likho's voice filled the night.

“Our gods may not be alike, but You and I... We are. We understand the need to do things others would balk at. You may not have the stomach for torture anymore, but you haven't shied away from taking lives.”

Kian leant on the rail and frowned, trying to follow the Dolmari's train of thoughts; the meaning of the strange jump between unconnected topics was not clear, but he sighed in resignation. It was not as if it would matter anyway. Instead, the image of that Azadi officer, and the several ones he had killed since he joined the Rebels, erased any question he could have. Only the memory of warm blood on his hands remained, “ After that first kill... it was... too easy.” He looked down at the nearby houses. “I wanted to be reborn, in a way. To be able to change what I've done all my life... but-” 

“You should feel no shame. We're doing what needs to be done, what no one else is able to do.”

“Are we? It feels like I'm... I'm continuing the path I wanted to change...”

Likho frowned, curious. “Why would you change the only thing you are most skilful at?, your abilities are needed, everyone expects you to use them, because through them we can accomplish our goal. It doesn't matter to whom your skills served before.  _Now,_ it's what matters. Changing their purpose does.”

“Killing people is what everyone expects from me, huh?”, Kian said in a bitter tone, “Then, you have no problems with the means but the targets. Torturing a Magical is bad but not a human?."

“You spent too much time with that naive zhidling." Likho stood up and crossed his arms on his chest, looking aside. That argument has been chasing after him all his life. There was rightfulness in that question, but it was something he had lost decades ago. Now, it did not matter anymore. 

"That's why you wanted me to torture that off-”

Likho's eye glittered with that yellowish spark for a fraction of second. "Are you asking me if I can't sleep at night when a gh'azi cries?. I've lived all my life surrounded by the monstrosities that Azadi have done to my people, and it should be  _me_ who has to think about the means?, you are asking for compassion to the wrong side, Alvane.”

Kian sighed, knowing the man had an  edgy , gr e y point there. “Still, you are a person, Likho. Sharing the means with the enemy doesn't affect you?”

“Huh?” The Dolmari's frown deepened.

“Changing things won't be possible if both sides keep doing exactly what's expected for them to do. If you use your enemy's means as well… are you not a bit like them?”

“Wait, you want me to be polite with the next group of gh'azis I meet?. What?. I should tell them 'please, stop raping that Zhid because she is not pleased'?, or better, 'could you stop using my people as live-stock to feed your servants?, we do not appreciate the process'." Kian sighed and frowned in silence. "We didn't start this war, Alvane. We never chose to be killed. In fact, we never had a voice in this fucking invasion that keep decimating us. Are you really asking my people to behave and keep being slaughtered peacefully until Azadi's regrets appear out of the blue?. Are you fucking kidding me?.”

Kian looked down, focusing once again in the Old Town. He could not reply that argument. “I guess you are right… still...”

Tired, Likho looked directly at the man, with a slight fear looming under his skin. “Stop beating around the bush with questions that only anger me. What do you really want to ask, Azadi?”

“I'm not sure... Maybe... I'm... simply... tired?. I'm tired of my old life… I thought that maybe in the Rebels-”

“And do you think all these people we want to protect can afford to be tired? Do you think my people dying in Intiqua-aba could take a moment to stop their fighting just because they were tired?, do you think Rebels are in a position to take a break and rest while wondering about the nature of their means?.”

Kian looked at him with a tortured look, never afraid of that yellowish sparkle in Likho's eye. “So, it's a one-direction path, without even a moment to rest, to doubt? Did you live this way all your life?”

Likho did a strange hoarse sound, that Kian could recognize as a forced laugh, “Kian, there is a Dolmari saying.  _Dol've nen dar'abat, dol'vas nan ghilan_ . It's translated as:  _if you are tired, you are dead_ .” and then, he sighed; the air leaving his lungs in a compressed, tortured way. A sigh that was meant to be a relief, but it was only a way to control a long lasting contained struggle.

Kian looked far away into the Town, small lights appearing in the horizon as the Sun was hiding, “That's... well, that's devastating.” both of them looked at each other, and Likho drew a tiny, bitter smile of pride and irony. For a second, the man turned into an ephemeral symbol of the destruction of what lasted long enough to be withered many times, an arid land left to waste, the last drop of blood from a fallen soldier. A sorry sight, but somehow, inspiring, hardened through pain, and still yet close to collapse. Then, the question arose itself, “have you ever thought what are you going to do in times of peace? When this is all over.”

Likho chuckled. “No. I prefer not to. It's likely that I won't survive long enough. I'm working with an Azadi because Rebels think this was a good idea. Clearly we all are doomed as fuck.” Breaking the moment, rising once more time those impenetrable walls, Likho turned over his heels and walked away, “I'll check information with Ulvic and bring some drinks for this fucking long night ahead. Do you want something?”

“Bring me yams.”

* * *

 

The streets in the City were quiet. He barely could see some drunk men tripping to their way back home and some lost rats eating in the darkest corners of the houses' gardens. Before entering to the Rooster and the Kitten, he looked aside the tavern and appreciated that big, old building. The Salty Seaman. Now, it was not only closed but abandoned. Some windows were broken, as if it would have turned into precarious doors for homeless souls looking for shelter. The dirt had taken control of the place, and if he were quiet long enough, he would hear the endless squeak of rats inside, hid in the darkness. What the place had been once, it would never be again.

Leaving the thought behind, Likho entered into Ulvic's new tavern and looked around. There were some drunk men in a corner, and half of the lights were already off, a symbol that the publican was going to close the place soon.

“Ulvic, give me a bottle of something that keeps me awake the whole night, and a jar of yams.”, he said as soon as he reached the bar, but then, he bended over it, getting close to the big man for a more secretly whisper, “Did you heard something worthy around?” 

“No. Everything has been quiet. Too quiet.”

Waiting for the order, Likho looked down on the other side of the bar, curious for a strange, sneaky movement he could catch by the corner of his eye. It was Bip, who was sat in a small crate, eating soup from a steamy bowl. The Dolmari raised an eyebrow at the little kid, “Bip?, what are you doing there?”

“Uh?. Ulvic gives me a place where to sleep. And eat. Apart from that… nothing.” he said with his mouth full.

Likho turned to Ulvic, who put the bottles on the bar surface and a jar with small brown croquettes in it. “Kian pays me weekly to give him shelter and proper food everyday. I told him to go eat underground, you know”, the big man looked at the right side of the bar, where a stair was placed; a restricted area, only available for Ulvic and certain people he allowed to go down. A place Likho knew quite well. “It's safer to stay in that room, but he is stubborn like an Elgwan, and stayed here. He said something about listening somebody.”

“No. I want to see the mystery woman that Enu talked to me. I think it's important to know who she is. I see many mystery women daily. But I'm not sure if I saw this one...” Bip said before choking with the spoon in his mouth.

Likho took the bottle and the jar, and wrapped them both in a long cloth to transport them on his back. He tried to force indifference, he tried to stop that emotion once again, but it was hard to bear. Icy spiders beneath his skin, walking slowly to his belly.

He looked at Bip, silently, as the thoughts overwhelmed him. In a fraction of second, the spiders spread all over his body, forcing goosebumps everywhere. He frowned furiously.

It was a simple kid living in the streets. Forgotten by humans and Magicals alike. It was a Dolmari kid. With dark blue skin. Like his.

He was going to leave, but then, he looked at Ulvic, still frowning, angry with his own mind and body, showing explicitly how much he was hating his own actions, “Do you have some beverage made of yams?”

“Oh... ” Ulvic smiled as if he knew too much, “You want to make a presen-”

“I want to see if he likes it enough to prepare a poisoned one. You never know when it could be useful.” Likho said averting his eye. Yes. He needed to be sure to have an ace under his sleeve just in case. Just in case. Treason was always an option. He had to convince himself over and over. He looked at Bip and reminded himself: _Treason was always an option._ He never had to trust too much. But then April's voice crossed his mind. _Likho, silly Likho._

He swallowed. A flickering thought made him wonder about whose treason he was referring to: Kian's or his.

Ulvic chuckled, accustomed to the Dolmari's personality, and gave him a small bottle of infused yams.

* * *

 

Days had been too boring and quiet for being a good sign. Certainly, the calm did not last long enough: the bad news came at the end of the week. The same night in which they could finally start to understand the pipes mysteries, its relationship in the disappearance of Magicals, and the threat that the main tower represented, a second raid happened. It had been smaller than the previous one, but performed in a more sudden and subtle way. It was a surprise for everyone, considering how many days of incessant wakefulness they had spent. So many precautions and strategy for nothing.

Likho could not understand how their logistic did not give them any warning with enough time. Not even the slightest rumour had reached their ears. And that was suspicious. It was as if someone would have been informing what kind of patrols the rebels were doing, and where. Thus the Azadi could avoid to put the wrong pieces in the wrong places, in order to give a fake illusion of calmness. 

But now, to know the hows were useless. What was relevant was that most remnants of rebels in Old Town had disappeared. It had been a tremendous blow.

 

The atmosphere in the Enclave HQ was full of anger, dejection and hopelessness.

Kian was gritting his teeth, listening the reports of what the raid had left. The information gathered from the engineer Ferdows seemed unworthy in comparison with the high cost that they had paid.

To expand in details all the information collected by Kian, Shepherd ordered a group of explorers to go around and into the Tower, in order to obtain maps, to memorize hidden corners for them to exploit, and to know what type of security forces were going to face there. Every bit of extra information would be useful to start getting a first approach related to such powerful and dangerous place. Until the return of the group, she ordered for everyone to keep a low profile and avoid the streets. The rebels kidnapped in the raid were already lost, probably working in Ge'en by then. There was nothing to do for them.

Angry with the decision, Likho left the meeting immediately after that order, sick of knowing that they had lost people, once again, and all what they could do was to watch and wait.

His departure was a relief for everyone in the meeting; they had perceived the Dolmari's increasing anger since the beginning of the report, and were expecting a sudden violent episode at any moment. 

The rest of the meeting finished quickly after Shepherd explained some potential plans that could be done facing the new complications. They were mere drafts, but she considered important for them to know. Rebels were not safe anymore. There were still a couple of days ahead before deciding what to do according to the circumstances. So far now, there was nothing to do but to wait. 

Once the meeting was over, Kian remained in the HQ, alone, thinking while observing a lost point in that big table. Few days after joining the Resistance, the Old Blind Bob gave him a brief historical lecture about the Enclave and its members. It was in that opportunity when he knew about the unspoken fear always present in the Enclave: Likho's anger.

At first, he had thought that such story was only one of many strategies to keep him in line, to make him feel constantly threatened in order to avoid any temptation of betrayal. But then, after dealing with the Dolmari, he knew that the old man genuinely wanted to avoid a second tense situation. It was more than obvious that an Azadi would reduce Likho's patience faster than anything else, if he had patience at all.

Like any other Rebel, Kian knew what kind of danger could Likho turn into when anger and stress worked at the same time in his mind. He was also certain that Likho had been more edgy than ever in those last days.

It was true that Kian had not April's skills to make the Dolmari calm down, even more, from all the Rebels, he had the highest chance to spark the Dolmari's ire. Still yet, guided by that charm than dangerous cliffs inspire or maybe by curiosity, wanting to test in which side of the Dolmari's trust he was, he went to Likho's room.

He walked along the corridor and stopped at the door of the Hell itself. Somehow, he convinced himself that all what he wanted to do was to explain the last part of the meeting to Likho, to give him a brief summary of the tentative plans, and to discuss them in order to listen any advice that the Dolmari's experience could provide. Likho could be a mad man sometimes, but it was undeniable that he was also a wise one, forged through the painful process of trial and error, one of the rare Rebels who had survived long enough.

He knocked several times Likho's room door but nobody answered. Instead, the door opened itself due to the impulse of the knocks. He stepped in and found Enu sweeping the floor and arranging the bed with a thoughtful gesture. The Zhid startled when she turned over to the door and found the Azadi. He looked at her, curious and a bit surprised. His silent question made Enu fidgeting the broom in her hands, while improvising a good excuse in a fast, agitated speech.

"I've promised him to clean his room for a year. I know. It sounds weird, but he... he won a wager? Yeah, we can say that. We bet, I lost, he won." she said too ashamed of the truth.

Kian snorted, "Did you see him? Right now I mean, after the meeting."

"No. When I came, he was already gone. I heard a fellow saying he went for a drink."

Kian raised his eyebrows, "A drink? After all what's happening around? It's not safe for a blue man out there."

Enu rolled her eyes, "Yeah, and do you think  _that_ would have stopped that grump?"

Kian chuckled. "You are right. I'll look for him"

"Yes, please. Stop him before that silly man gets into troubles."

He left the room before Enu could articulate a blessing.

 

There was only one person in all Marcuria that would give him the first significant clue to find that Dolmari, so he headed to The Rooster and the Kitten. The streets were calm, and some humans gathered in the darkest corners, a bit drunk due to the incoming festivity. He would have expected more soldiers around, or violent situations; the remaining ashes of the Resistance, but to his disconcert, it was a calm, boring night.

Kian entered into the tavern, and all the sombre thoughts that he had been ruminating in his walk stopped, a guilty relief washed his worries when he spotted Likho instantly, in his usual corner, the darkest one in the place, surrounded by many empty beer mugs. At his front, a sensual Zhid that he had never seen in the Resistance was smiling at the Dolmari.

Kian approached the table thanking mentally the Balance at first, and the Goddess later. "So there you are-" he whispered, but as soon as the strong stench of alcohol reached his nostrils he frowned with an apostle disapproval gesture. "by the Light..."

The Zhid laughed softly and moved his ears up down producing a jiggling sound of rings. His big, bright, red eyes took Kian's breath for a moment. They were more than just beautiful rare gems, they emanated magic, blood dark magic, seducing everyone who dare to see them with guards off.  Years of training allowed Kian to identify that such devouring charm was not on purpose. It was the wild nature of some Magicals. Like humans, they were born with different skills and levels of magical power, and even though magic was a common thing in them, it was not always powerful like Na'ane's or Shepherd's. Sometimes it was mediocre or dormant, or perhaps powerful, like that Zhid's, but uneducated and therefore, wasted.

"Is it me or him?" The Zhid said, smiling open wide. Kian blinked in confusion. "The one you are looking for?"

Likho drank a long sip from his beer mug and looked at the human.  “ A drink, for you, for your damned presence in the Resistance. A group of people that can't lead themselves, so they looked for humans to do their work. Because we can't even have Magicals as figures of inspirations. No... it has to be a fucking Azadi. The same kind that kill us every night. Fuck the irony...”

Merhdiv laughed, showing his sharp fangs. “He is so cute when drunk, isn't he?”.

Kian sat aside the Zhid, observing in surprise the Dolmari's lame condition. “is that safe?, saying that aloud.”

“Oh, it is. Look around.” The big red eyes moved in direction of the rest of the tavern. 

Kian observed the place in detail. There were only few people around, and all of them were comrades in the Resistance: those who had escaped that fateful raid. It seemed strange for all of them to be there.  If the Azadi had decided to ambush the tavern, it would have been the end of the Resistance.  He frowned. “Why? Why are Rebels here now?, Azadi soldiers are everywhere.”

“The Azadi had a fancy night yesterday. They took the Magicals they needed and now they are celebrating that. That, and this festivity of them... The Goddess' words or something. They seem to be more focused on that now.”

“Oh, the day of the Words Inscribed in the Soul. I forgot it was these days..,” Kian's tone transmitted a bit of regret and shame.

Merhdiv smirked. “That sounds interesting... what kind of words are inscribed?... where and how?... ” he added in a sensual voice, that Likho, even drunk, could not miss. He took a piece of yam from the small plate on the table, and threw it at him. Merhdiv caught the bit in the air and ate it, with a mischievous smile on his face. Without averting his eyes from the Dolmari, he licked his lips shamelessly. He could not care less about Kian's presence there.

Missing those gestures, Kian called Ulvic with his hand, and asked him to bring more yams and a glass of water, or maybe an improvised tea. Anything that could help him with his thirst but without ending the night like Likho. “What happened to him?." He said observing the Dolmari, avoiding the Zhid's disturbing eyes. "I thought he was always too worried about somebody going to betray him. What a way to get his guard off.”

The Zhid showed his teeth in a big smile and observed the man at his front. “He likes to be off guard sometimes. But not enough to be stabbed, I tell you. You know, he hates  _so much_ being stabbed.”

Likho frowned at the Zhid and tried to kick the man under the table, but Merhdiv dodge the impact with a clean movement.

Kian observed the situation a bit confused. Who would enjoy to be stabbed anyway?. “I never saw you in the Resistance” Kian asked out of the blue.

“I'm not part of it. But don't worry, I'm a sympathizer, let's say. There are some Rebels that have all my interest in their well-being. One of them is this silly Dolmari here.”

Likho drank his beer mug all at once and hid his face on his crossed arms resting over the table. He was dizzy, ashamed, hurt, helpless, collapsing. In sum, destroyed.

“I don't think you need to worry about him. He usually is quite resourceful.” Kian said before putting a piece of yam in his mouth.

“Yeah, I know...” Merhdiv kept observing the man at his front with a small trace of sadness in his face. “Still yet, he has his flanks.”

“Shut up.... Don't talk as if I weren't here” Likho's words, coming from the inside of his folded arms, were slurry and muffled. 

The sailor chuckled. “Likho's fondness is so charming”. He moved his ears spreading a cheerful jiggling sound of rings. “Well, time to go.” The Zhid left the chair and turned around the table to touch Likho's shoulder, shaking it a bit. However, Likho did not move his body, and remained there, still hiding his face in his own arms. Maybe the alcohol had been too much, maybe he was just hiding away. “This is goodbye, the real one, Likho. I can imagine you know what it means. Won't I have  _one of those_ after all this time?”

“Fuck off...”

Merhdiv sighed and looked at Kian shrugging. The Dolmari would never have a gentle side.

“Are you going into a journey?” it was the fastest way for Kian to keep the man a bit longer and investigate about those two. Likho was not a man of many friends, and the few ones he had were from the Resistance. This Zhid was by far unexpected and suspicious.

“You could say that. I'm a sailor. My captain is leaving this night. Marcuria is not a safe place for us anymore. The South awaits us.”

Kian smiled imperceptibly, charmed by the sudden image of unknown lands, like those he read in children books. “That's so fascinating.”

“It is. However...” He said looking at the Dolmari, still passed out on the table or pretending to be so, “... travelling so much around the world makes you leave behind many things. You never have time to make them important. To work on them. It's wiser to keep them shallow. You are always walking on the ocean's surface, you can say.” He took an earring of the many he had in one of his ear, and put it on the table, close to Kian. “Could you give him this, once he is sober?. A memento. I think he would drop it around if I gave it to him right now.” 

Kian nodded, and his curiosity could not resist any longer. “You and he...?”

“Good friends.” He said it too faster. But Likho's promise, made long time ago, forbade him to say the truth, or maybe, just the detail. After all, there was nothing serious going on between them. “He was a good friend when I needed it. That's all." He patted the Dolmari's back, touching for last time his bare shoulders with his claws, and started his departure from that moment on, "Well, the Sea calls me.”

As an eternal, cyclic ritual, Merhdiv moved his ears up and down many times, encouraging his soul with that cheerful sound in order to go on, to never look back, to never desire more of what he could taste in the immediate present. It was a path he had chosen time ago, a path of freedom and light attachment to everything. The Sailor's path. It had some measure of pain for this lack of depth that, in some occasions with certain people in particular, made him regret his choice of life. But it never lasted much; the distress was easily forgotten, because as shallow as his attachments were, so was it the pain related to them. The jiggling sound of his earrings reminded him that life was that way. One choice or another, the consequences would have always a painful side in the name of freedom, love or security. There was not a perfect choice, and life was too mixed and dirty with good and bad things to waste time in thinking over them. He had the Balance for those things, after all. The Balance would set everything right in the end.

Merhdiv left the tavern and closed its door forever.

 

Kian remained there, eating the yams and drinking water while observing the earring on the table. It was a shiny silver ring.

The atmosphere was nostalgic and a bit ironic. They were a group of rebels and sympathizers, in middle of a tavern soon to close, with half lights illuminating the defeated moral that the last raid had caused on their souls. They were there, trying to find some kind of intoxicated peace of mind, knowing that outside there was still soldier patrols, walking on fresh pools of blood. That was the effect of the naturalised violence. For them, Life had always been that way. Unfair, fragile, with death at the corner of the street. Drinking alcohol carelessly, surrounded by the messengers of The Grim Reaper, would not change the danger that they had to deal with on daily basis. It was the same. Death was the final outcome, no matter how reckless or careful you were, ironically.

“Fuck that Zhid.” Likho said, sitting straight in the seat, and asking Ulvic another drink with a messy gesture of his hand. 

“Don't you think it's enough?” the big man said when he approached the table carrying another jar of ale.

“What now? Are you going to tell me what to do?,"

Ulvic placed the jar on the table, observing the ring. He was going to say something, but stopped midway when he looked at Kian. A fraction of second that Kian's training allowed him to perceive easily.  Regretting his careless mistake, Ulvic added immediately, looking at Likho, “ I'm just saying alcohol is not good. You may do things that you can regret later...”

But it was too late; Kian already knew there was something more with that Zhid, the ring, and the Dolmari. Ulvic had slipped enough.

Likho chuckled. “That happens when I'm sober, it wouldn't be much of a difference.”  then, he looked at Kian, "unless you want to take advantage of this. It could be, you are one of  _those_ . Rough and gross: Azadi style, after all.  _Repulsive_ ."

Kian frowned angry. The Goddess had always taught people to love others in many ways, but none was rough, gross, and repulsive. There was never violence in the love that She had allowed them. But what could matter in front of an angry, drunken Dolmari, who probably was unable to process the bitter taste of defeat that those raids had  left . A man whose opinion about the nature of love was biased by his own culture, a man who had known how an Azadi could treat a girl, how a Dolmari man could be punished because the love of an Azadi. M aybe Likho had some points  on that  matter . Maybe all what his eye had seen was the terrible side of the Goddess' love. Perhaps Azadi love was one thing in theory, beautiful and tender, but in reality...

A flick of the past appeared in his mind as a lightning does in an apparent calm grey sky. It brought a blurry list of small moments during all those years of training to became an Apostle. They were memories about the love he could remember: quick evenings in the public bath, rubbing strangers' bodies with lavender oils, leading to uncontrollable rushes of pleasure that demanded an immediate relief; dark corners during fancy banquets, suffocated moans behind curtains; lonely nights in the training camp, with anonymous bodies suddenly sharing his bed, getting close, enjoying what they had to offer and then, leaving before the sunrise. It had never been love, at least, not that love that the Goddess used to talk about. It was pleasure, relief, a moment of self-indulgence. 

Becoming an Apostle had put an end to that endless cycle, that despite all that shared pleasure, it was not something he missed. He was still eager to experience something deeper, if the Goddess or the Balance were merciful enough to give him, but deep inside, he was sure he had not right for asking  such a thing . Rivers of blood and bodies had their toll on him.

He blinked, returning to reality, and observed the Dolmari who was sat in a slouched position very unlike of him. His eye was bright and red.

“But... Likho, in this state of yours, you may start yelling something about the Resistance."

"For the fucked up Balance; I'm drunk, not brainless."

"Still, what if some soldiers just enter-” Kian insisted.

“Fuck that, Kian. I'm tired, and I want to forget with a little of fucking alcohol. Is that bad? Won't your fucked up Goddess allow me to do it?”

Ulvic, who was still stood aside the table, shook his head slowly at Kian, and came back to his bar.

“The alcohol leads to mistakes that can cost lives”, Kian whispered.

That had been the last straw. Likho, who was going to drink the last bit of his beer mug, slammed it onto the table, startling the man at his front with the strong noise. Even Ulvic had jumped a little due to the hit. “Ugh,  _Gh'azi_ . As if we don't lose lives anyway. We are always losing. And it doesn't matter. Tired or not, we are always  _fucking_ losing.” Kian lowered his eyes and observed the yams. “Do you have an idea how long I've been fighting Azadi like you?. Since I was ten years old. Starting from that fucking day you killed my father. There, I lost. I'd learnt what mean s to lose.  S oldiers c a me days after and burnt my village. My father's blood wasn't faded away from the ground yet. In that raid, I lost many friends. A couple of cousins. My Aunt. There, I've learnt that I had to be used to lose." He made a stop, drank a bit, and continued, "The rest of my family had to resist alone inside the big walls of Sadir, in the magical ghetto. I grow up sneaking away from their groups of cleansing. I lost more friends there, all Magicals.  _Cleansing process_ , they called it. They massacred my people in every inspection. I had to understand why we had to  get used to lose. We tried to flee to the forest again, rebuilt the village. But the group of soldiers...” he drank a long sip, his eye was teary, “I joined the Dolmari Resistance soon after. My mother died in a massive attack to our bases. I couldn't be there for her. She died listening screams  of despair . I couldn't tell her  a goodbye.” his face was tense and drank more, “Comrades, friends. We kept losing some of them after every mission. I kept asking why we have to accept this constant loss.” He sighed, and licked his lips angrily. “Things went worse when they allowed humans to kill Dolmaris at sight.” He chuckled. “ That was my own doing . I'd killed a high officer or a fucked up high general, and the fucking Azadi lost their heads. I was so tired of watching my people die, so... I wanted them to lose something.” A long pause followed, and Likho's mood darkened. “Then, April...” Likho had to stop, rubbed his face trying to release the sudden knot in his throat. “It doesn't matter if you like it or not, if you are used to it, if you hate it, if you wonder, if you are careful, if you are drunk or sober... Alvane. You are going to lose.  _Always_ .”

Kian looked at his own beer mug full of water and fidgeted its handle. Then, trying to change the topic, at least slightly, he spoke “Did you kill a high officer in Sadir? Was it High General Aslaf?”

“I did. I can't remember his name. I don't care.” He smirked, “His lover was a fucking _ga'andaar_.” his smile disappeared. 

“What?” Likho looked at him, gloomy all of the sudden, drank a bit more and looked aside. “Is that some kind of secret information?” Kian teased him.

“Dol-Intiqua... calls certain filthy, evil creatures as _Ga'andaar._ ”

Kian raised his eyebrows, “Hu h?,  _Creatures?”_

“They are born with a Dolmari disguise. They take their shape from a real Dolmari, they wear it. But they are not _true_ Dolmari, they pursue lust and selfish interests. They may want pleasure, comfort, safety, anything that they want, they want it only for themselves. They do not care for the rest, for the consequences of their own actions. They lure another Dolmaris, or whatever they fancy, into things that are not natural...”

Kian squinted at him. “Is that how your people call men who love-”

“They _can't_ love.” he interrupted, agitated suddenly. “ _Ga'andaars_ are despicable creatures, aberrations of our gods, and...” he felt a knot in his throat. “You need to kill them like rabbits, you need to skin them  alive, to rescue the real Dolmari to guide them into the gods' realm, and leave the creature here to die, without skin, suffering for his selfish, aberrant desires...” Likho rubbed his face. Then he rested his chin in a hand, while the other took the beer mug. 

“Quite savage...”

“Save your words, _gh'azi_. You can say the same about your people with the Magicals. As I told you, we are not so different. And that, sometimes, revolts me.”

Kian chuckled. “you really drank a lot.”

Still lost in his past, more tangible than usual due to the alcohol, Likho kept speaking, “ I not only killed the officer, but I also took Palevan. I skinned him alive. It was so ... scary.”

“Scary? I thought you find satisfaction in torturing him. I mean, you weren't saving his soul?...”

Likho looked at him, but this time, he was not angry but defeated. Then, he rested his forehead on his folded arms. “I look that way, don't I?”. the sound was muffled.

Kian smiled. “Huh. Don't take it personal. I know the feeling. I were there too,  _'saving'_ souls .”

Likho lifted his head, “Tell me Kian, Apostle of the Azadi, don't you think sometimes that it's too much to bear?. That this life is... not life at all”.

Kian sighed, and as natural as it felt, he patted Likho's arms, still crossed in the table. “ All the time. Sometimes I think it would be nice to just give up.”

“ Don't dare to say that... you are the fucking inspiring  symbol , you shit” Likh o whispered and rested his head for a bit longer. 

The hours passed by, and the last rebels left the tavern. There were only a couple of lights on, giving its lugubrious omen to the place. 

“I think you have to leave now. Later would be more complicated. The patrols...” Ulvic said observing the Dolmari while approaching the table, “he is awake, right?”

“Hard to say.” Kian stood up and shook Likho's shoulder gently, but the man had passed out. Resigned, he lifted the Dolmari on his back, helped by Ulvic, and before leaving, took the last piece of yam. “I'll carry this wrecked man, I'll pay you later.”

“Don't worry about that. Take care. Do you want a cloak? To cover him?”

“No, it's fine. It would be less suspicious this way. A human carrying an almost dead Dolmari won't be a big issue for any guard.”

Disturbed by the reality of Kian's words, Ulvic remained silent for a moment, deeply worried. He touched Likho's back, as a natural reaction to check his breath and warmth, and accompanied them to the entrance. “Be careful.” He repeated, before closing the door with several locks and keys.

 

Kian hopped the heavy body of the Dolmari. He listened a grunt of disapproval and smiled. Walking the distance with the man on his back was a challenge. The massive muscled body was more than just a pleasant sight during trainings, its weight was heavier of what he had expected. Maybe it was something related to the Dolmari bulky nature.

A couple of soldiers in a patrol stopped their steps at his sight, but as soon as they observed the Dolmari, returned to their own path. It was well known in Marcuria that some humans have a taste for exotic experiences that they could obtain through alcohol in dark corners during the night. The disturbing thought was a reality, and only for that moment it was a good unspoken excuse. A disguise that everyone would assume immediately  putting aside any suspicion that could uncover them .

Before reaching Shady Quay, Kian could feel Likho's head getting close to his own neck, breathing in a way that resembled his wild nights in Sadir.

“Don't move so hard...” Likho mumbled.

Kian chuckled.  _That_ did not help in that moment.  “ It had been quite a long time since the last time I've been under a big man saying me that...” 

Likho took a long time to process the information and then, released an annoyed grunt, “S hut up”. But his voice had been kinder  of what Kian would have expected, as it was the gentle pressure of Likho's nose in his neck, breathing calming in that sensitive part. Once accustomed to the stench of alcohol, he started to perceive the wooden and salty shades of Likho's characteristic smell, and for a moment, he had to stop his walk and appreciate the movement of  that man's  chest on his back, his slack arms around him, the strands of white hair sneaking into his own neck, those lips, so close of his sensitive nape. Kian sighed to relief in a vain attempt the sudden pressure he felt in all his body, and forced himself to think in something else. 

They finally reached the boat and headed to the Enclave. Once they were in the precarious underground pier, Kian almost fell into the water due to the weight of the smashed man, now unexpectedly heavier than before.

He carried him into his room, which had been left clean thanks to Enu, and put the man on the bed. He left Likho's daggers and that Zhid's ring on the night-stand, and took the Dolmari's boots off, seeing a deep scar in his insteps. They looked as if a dagger had pierced his entire feet and dug in it opening the wound deeper and deeper. He knew very well this kind of scars, and in what kind of torture sessions they were usually made. He had learnt to  inflict them as well. Maybe, as an unconscious naive gesture wanting to erase those marks, he brushed the scar with his fingers, feeling its soft surface. Knowing the torture protocol, he lifted the trouser cuff to observe another similar scar in the ankle s . Like it was written in  _that_ manual. 

“So, I was right...” Likho's slurry words were barely understandable, “you'll take advantage, right?” Kian took away his hand and sighed in deep annoyance. “If you are going to do it, do it fast. I don't want to deal-”

“Likho.” Kian said.

“Go ahead, Alvane.” he said, trying to unfasten his belt, but it turned into a complicated task. 

Kian chuckled, observing the Dolmari while standing aside the bed. “I thought you were drunk, not brainless.”

The struggle in the belt stopped suddenly. Likho frowned and tensed his jaw, and as a defeated man, ashamed by the truth behind his acts, he observed the human in a long silent moment. “for what matters... all this failure and loss... what for?.” Likho murmured, rubbing his face soon after.

Sympathized with the sentiment, Kian just put a blanket over the Dolmari and patted his shoulder, “ You will feel better tomorrow.”

“Does your Goddess forgive?”

The question stroke him by surprise. “Uh?... uh, well. She does. Those whose regrets are genuine, though.”

“So, she can forgive anything, not matter what?”

“That's what Mother Utana always told me...”

“But what do _you_ think, Alvane?. Do you think we can forgive and be forgiven?”

Kian frowned a bit and crossed his arms. Maybe an angry sober Likho was easier to deal with, “ I don't know”, Kian took a moment to think, while that unfocused eye was scrutinizing him, asking for a real answer. He sighed and finally spoke in a serious tone, “The Goddess is Great and Perfect. She can forgive everyone about everything. But we... It must be a test of strength or maybe madness to forgive certain things. Even though it's true that many are always pushed to do things they don't want to... that's not an excuse to force others a forgiveness they don't want to give. So, no. I don't think everything can be forgiven. Nor everyone deserves forgiveness.”

Likho chuckled. “Things they don't want to...”

A sad silence filled the moment, until Kian moved towards the door,  “ Rest well, Likho. Tomorrow you will have a bad hangover. Better don't meet me,  please .”

“I wish I could, but probably I won't. I've never been a lucky person.”

Kian chuckled, and left the room, closing the door softly.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, any suggestion or correction will be appreciated.
> 
> Current mood of the fic: Starting to give a damn about canon. As I said before, book 5 will be denied. It never happened. Ever.

It was hard to awake next morning. Small pieces of memories, maybe part of dreams, part of reality were mixed in his painful head.

The first thing he did when opening his eye was to grunt. The guttural sound echoed in his skull as a piercing pressure surrounded his brain. The second thing was to check where he was. It looked like his room, and nobody was in the bed beside him. Good. The third was to touch his body, making sure his clothes were on. He sighed in relief.  _That_ part had been a dream.

He sat in the edge of the bed, moaning and swearing at the Balance while the world was spinning around. That piercing pain crossing his brain reminded him that he would never ever drink that much again.

He wore his boots and stood up, taking a moment for the dizziness to calm down. Once the world decided to put the ground down, and the brightness in his room was less intense, he looked for his daggers around. They were on the nightstand, aside to a silver earring that caught his attention. It was quite familiar. Its gleam reminded him of a pair of charming red eyes and a gentle sound of jiggling bells. He took the small object and kept fidgeting it while uncovering its dark meaning. Putting in order the bunch of blurry memories related to last night was not an easy task. But then, he remembered why he had drunk so much the previous day. It had been many blows in such a short time. How long would he resist?, How many blows will he take until falling? Until, finally, giving up?. Surrender was now a thing that kept coming across his mind quite often. At some point, he could understand in that dizzy state of mind, in that room merged with darkness and dim blue lights, that terrible sentiment that April had been feeding during the last years before leaving him behind. He could not blame her. Now, he could not blame her in the slightest.

He swallowed a dry knot of sorrow and put the ring in the nightstand’s drawer. It was useless to keep thinking around what was done, what had been happened, what he had already lived. Now, they were a matter of the past, like his father, like his land, like April, like Merhdiv.

 

When he opened the door, a small body bumped him, and something cold soaked his stomach. By looking down, he found Enu, with an empty glass in her hands. He grunted but stopped short as the sound echoed in his mind painfully.

“Oh, oh, sorry!. Likho! How are you? I was going to leave this in your room...” she said showing him the empty glass. He squinted at her, feeling stabbing needles destroying his brain as her voice kept resounding. “Kian told me to do it, but I was training, and I told him you probably won't awake until very late, but he insist-”

“Enu, your voice.” She blinked. “Lower.” He added pressing his temples in a vain attempt to find relief.

“Oh, I see...” she whispered. “by the Balance, you really got a big hangover.”

She held his arm and pulled him all along the corridor until the main HQ. Confused by the speed of walls changing too fast for his senses, he finally could recover part of his perception when a reddish strain in the air got a sharper form. It was Shepherd looking at him with a worried expression. He did not speak, mainly because he did not want to encourage anyone to talk to him. So, while looking down, he walked to the nearest table. Enu brought him a jar of cold, fresh water and gave him the empty glass, filling it a couple of times. He simply obeyed the unspoken order and drank each of them.

After a couple of minutes, Kian appeared in the HQ, and could not avoid to curve his lips in an imperceptible smirk that Likho answered with a deadly look. He had no luck at all, certainly.

Kian walked forward Shepherd and talked for a while in a low tone, until a distressing fuss put all of them alert.

The noise, followed by shouts commanding to stop, got closer and closer as the seconds passed by. The steps running along the stairs were enough to make all of the Rebels in the HQ to be on guard, sheathing their weapons. Even in his lame state, Likho stood holding both daggers while forcing his muddled senses to stay sharp.

In a clear movement, as a creature of magic, a redhead woman appeared from the stairs, jumping into the HQ while avoiding several arrows that were at her back.

Surprised, Kian lowered his sword and frowned at the woman.  “ What are you doing here?” .

The rest of the Rebels looked at him, waiting for an order that now, seemed hard to guess.

“Put your weapons down”, Likho said irritated as his own voice resounded in his skull, “false alarm”.

Twitching her mouth, Anna looked at the Dolmari for a couple of seconds. The big man was taking seat once again, rubbing his face and drinking more water alternately. Then, she glared at Kian, “I thought  _you_ were going to stop them before asking questions. You, so practical always.”

“Who is she?”, Shepherd said without looking at Kian, still focusing damaging energy in her hand, waiting for any suspicious movement to release her power against this intruder. However, she relaxed her fingers just a bit at the sight of Likho's behaviour. If the man was calm, it was certainly a good sign. 

“She is a friend of Ulvic. It's a friend to us.”

Anna raised an eyebrow and sighed, “Are we done with the tensed scene?. Because I've came to tell you that the rebels who were caught in last night raid are going to leave before the sunset. I would be careful until then, they may want to raid one more time before sailing.”

“So, they had been in the town all this time?” Enu high pitch made Likho close tight his eye, enduring the echo of it in his brain. But there was also a small bit of guilt making those word even worse. If he would have known, if he would have saved those people instead of drinking to death in a dark tavern, if only he…

“Between them is Bip.” Anna added.

Kian wide opened his eyes. “No. It can't be...”

In the background, Likho covered his face with both hands and sighed, too tired for any other kind of reaction.

It never ended.

Never.

* * *

 

It was three hours of discussion; reasons and arguments were contrasted with strategy and future logistic, but it was useless to convince him. Shephard tried her best to remain tough and commanding, but she knew it by simply looking at Kian's eyes. The decision had been made.

“We can't afford to lose you, Kian” she replied, less convinced with each word. 

“You can. You are strong now.”

Enu was also there, blinking at any argument that Kian and Shepherd were throwing at each other.

The conversation was vital, and even though his head was torturing him, Likho had approached the HQ's table. For a couple of seconds, he tried to shut his mind off from those piercing sounds that were their voices, and fixated his tired eye on Kian's profile.

It was strange to consider that there was something familiar in it, something that made him remember April over and over. The situation could not help but emphasizing it. It was as if it were yesterday when April decided to stole more resources of what they had planned to. It was as it were yesterday when that grey day occurred, and Shepherd could not stand on her own feet and tell him that April had fallen during the mission. He could remember the never-ending loss, and a tight pressure surrounded his chest. Would it happen the same to _him_?

“That's not true, Kian. You know it. They can strike us at any moment. We need to be prepared. Especially considering that the general Hami brought more troops from Sadir. We are in a precarious situation.” Shepherd said.

“But I think I can make them change their heart. I can uncover what they are doing with Magicals, show them that they are wrong, earn their support.”  
“Earn their support? Are you aware of how difficult that could be taking into account our current situation?” Shepherd crossed her arms on her chest.   
But Kian insisted, “Sahya and Vamon are too strong. We can't do this alone. We need-” 

Shepherd interrupted his words, “Are you saying that we will earn Sadir's help if we show them what they are doing here?.” Likho chuckled in disbelief, “don't you think that they are quite aware of it?” Kian doubted for a second, but his resolve was unbreakable. She could do nothing to change his mind, so she simply sighed and spoke “Kian, you are not making easy for me to lead. But maybe this is the time for you to make your own decisions. I won't be in your way”.

“What? Are you insane?” Anna stepped forward, pushing Kian's shoulder. “You want to be killed?” Kian just remained silent, looking at her with his deadpan expression. “Ugh. Fine. And I came here just to tell you to be aware for any potential incoming raid. But no, you prefer to be emotional and run into a suicide mission. Fine, do it. I'm done with you.” Anna said, and walked her path back, disappearing stairs down. 

“Are you sure?” Enu asked finally, but she answered her own question after a sigh. “I guess that's what make us people. Doing this small goods everyday. Not sacrificing lives for the greater good.”

Likho frowned, unable to take a position. Leaving the rebels in a weak position to save a bunch of people, and mainly a kid... or let them die, to keep fighting with the core of the Resistance. A way or another there was going to be loss.

Always.

And April's face appeared once more in his stunned mind.

A constant, endless loss.

 

 

“You are not leaving without me”, he said more like a plea than an order. He was waiting in the frame of the April's room, looking at her while she was packing. 

“Silly Likho. It makes no sense to bring you with me. I've already got Na'ane, Chawan, and Brynn. Another more in the group will drag unnecessary attention on us.” she kept talking while putting some clothes in her bag. Many weeks far away from the Enclave awaited her. 

“If they attack you-”

“They are always attacking us, Likho. Stop worrying. You seem my dad...” she stopped short her movements, as an uncomfortable silence filled the room. She had forgotten her father to the point to forget his lack of interest in her. She sighed to put the memories aside. 

“You have been behaving strange, lately.” He added, sitting in the edge of the bed. Annoyed, April threw the stuff in her hands, and stood akimbo before the Dolmari, raising an irritating eyebrow. Those words had been in the air quite often lately. Both locked their eyes one another, fighting in secret for the winning place of the last standing person. It took them a while until they talked at the same time, but alike Likho, April forced her words to be listened. 

“So, I'm behaving strange, says the man who has been behaving like a mother-hen all these months. I don't need your protection, Likho. I thought you knew me enough to understand I can protect myself. I don't need a bodyguard. Besides, people need you here. What if they attack the Enclave?”

“It's not like that… it's simply...”

“Simply what?”

He looked at her pitifully. It was impossible for him to voice his thoughts, to tell her that, lately, he had been noticing that darkened accent in her words, her unfocused eyes lost in the ocean, the immense weight of emptiness on her shoulders. “We can't lose you. You are important.” he managed to say.

She chuckled and throw her bag on her back. The sound of her last steps along the Enclave's corridor resounded in his mind, coming from the darkest places of his memory, but still as fresh as it had been yesterday.

And such nostalgic sound brought some of her words, those that emerged from her lips sometimes, when both remained in the cave entrance of the Enclave, watching the sunset.

_"That's easy for you to say. There's meaning to your existence. Me? I wasn't who I thought I was. I honestly have no idea who I am anymore. Everyone kept telling me that I was important, that I was needed. Then one day, I...wasn't."_

 

 

Words as a terrible omen. The tragedy's warnings.

Likho drank another glass of water and walked to Kian's room.

 

 

The medallion had two pendants. One was the symbol of the Goddess, elaborated and intricate as many of her representations. The other was a minimalist symbol of the Balance, a recent acquisition that pending from his neck seemed quite right to him.

Kian was surrounding his neck with the chain of the medallions when Likho appeared in the door's frame. The Dolmari could see when Kian hid the pendants under his clothes, as if he did not want to offend with something that could be considered heresy by Azadi and Magicals alike.

For a moment he wanted to hate him, to keep feeding that festering sentiment that kept him alive his whole life, but those sad, silent eyes of the man, looking at him in such a passive attitude, waiting for him to speak, annulled his anger. That man was not even a shadow of that creature thirsty of death that had spilled his father's blood. And that was infuriating.

They remained in that silent fight of looks for a while, probably each of them waiting for the other to talk, but no one had enough courage. Expecting nothing, Kian walked towards him, to cross the door, but Likho did not move an inch. Instead, he stepped forward, blocking his path.

“You are not leaving without me”. His hoarse, deep voice resounded in his skull. It dizzied him for a moment.

“You are needed here, Likho.”

“We can't lose you”, he looked aside, “and those people are my people-”

“Imprisoned by mine. I have to fix this. Stay here. If Resistance loses us both, it won't have a chance against the Tower.”

“I'm not needed that way. I'm not a leader anymore. You have proven yourself...” he frowned, and his voice exploded with controlled anger, “besides, you are the _fucking_ symbol.”

Kian could not avoid chuckling. “ I thought you were against that.”

“I still am, but whether I like it or not, you are the symbol of the Resistance. That won't change no matter my opinion.”

Kian looked straight into Likho's eye, as the Dolmari did the same, both of them breathing closer than usual one from another, surrounded by a tense silence. That reckless defiance, that stubborn personality, that shape in his profile. There was so many reminiscences of April there, but it was not her. Maybe insanity was finally taking over his poor mind state. Likho had to remind himself again that she was gone, and this man was an Azadi, a murderer trying to seek forgiveness, and being foolish in the process. Heedlessly foolish. Like her.

“Likho...” Kian whispered, but the other man interrupted him.

“Try not to get yourself killed, Kian”.

Kian pressed the symbols under his cloth. “P lanning to kill me after?”  His lips were going to say something entirely different, but he could not stop them. 

“Of course.”

“I won't miss that...” Kian said, patting Likho's shoulder as he passed by, leaving the Dolmari alone in the room. Likho rubbed his face and squinted at his own arms. He scratched them a bit. It was as if icy, hairy legs were walking underneath. 

He shut his eye tight. There were so many levels of wrongness in his thoughts, in his body, in his memories. And so many similarities with April last moments before _that_ mission.

He tried to follow Kian's steps, but he stopped in front of the HQ table. The place was empty. 

His head was still a drum, resounding with each step in his back and forth, thinking despite the pain. He stood for a moment, looking at the big table. The  _symbol_ of the Resistance had just left the Enclave a couple of minutes ago, alone, with the naïve thought that Azadi could put their imperialist eyes far away from Marcuria just because Ge'en was a living hell for any Magical; just because Kian was going to tell them. 

Likho's jaw tensed. Who could care about that  _gh'azi,_ anyway. Since he met him, that first moment when he saw the unconscious, feverish body in a bed, hardly recovering from his wounds, he had wished every day that something could kill him. Once and for all. 

Now, with Kian going into a suicide mission, Likho had to be thankful; he repeated to himself over and over. His wish, finally, was going to become true.

_But... but... but..._

That glimpse of the medallions, symbol of the Balance and the Goddess in the same chain, glittered in his mind filling his incomplete thoughts.

A grunt escaped from his mouth as he walked to the old healing room; a place where it was common to find Na'ane time ago, but not now because she was still confined in her own room. He opened some potions, smelled them, and drank one all at once. The bitter taste soared his throat, but he did not care as long as it could wipe that piercing pain crossing his skull.

He took three more potions of the same kind, and put them in his belt-pocket. For the last time, he checked the halt of his daggers, and finally, left the Enclave.

With fast steps, but quieter than any person could imagine possible for a Dolmari, he arrived at the main docks, distinguishing a dark figure of that woman at the distance. In front of her, closer, Kian was simply observing her.

As overwhelming as a sudden lighting, all the past ghosts of betrayers crossed Likho's mind. What if, after all, that woman was an Azadi agent?, what if Kian was one of them after all?. Mistrust and fear kept mixing in his tired mind, even though he kept pulling the present over the past, thinking before acting.

Forcing a deep sigh to calm his racing heartbeat, Likho hid himself among a bunch of crates; close enough to listen, but far away to stay out of their sight.

Over and over, all the betrayers he had killed along his life, and Palevan standing out from all of them, were appearing in his mind, adding more weight to his already altered heart, feeling the cold sweat crossing his back, enduring the possibility that betrayers had been always in front of his nose but he never saw them.

He clenched his teeth. They were humans. A blow of despair compressed his stomach. Human spies were always the worst ones. He squeezed his daggers' pommels, waiting among the shadows for a good moment to attack when finally, the voice reached his ears.

“I'm not really one of them. I never was. I never will be. I'm Azadi.”

Likho's jaw was like a stone, and the last word increased that agitated sentiment of treason. He unsheathed the daggers, but the words of the woman stopped him.

“Are you going to free any magical on your own? You are being stupid and emotional, and... selfish. You are leaving us when we need you the most. You are leaving _me_ , again.” A long silence filled the cold, dark night, “In Sadir I was Alayna, but I never told you my name. You probably don't remember.”

“You are the girl I saved from Vamon's gang.” 

“Yeah, I'm _the girl_. I spent every day these past 20 years thinking about you and... _I'm the girl_. I feel so special now.”

“Forgive me, I do remember you, Vamon was trying to-”

“Hurt me. And they would've killed me too if it hadn't been for you. You risked everything and you stood up for me. That was the first time anyone had shown me any kindness. I watched you from the distance for years, until I was forced to leave Sadir.”

“That was a long time ago. I was a different person.”

“No, you were a different person in between, but now...now you are the boy I knew from all those years ago. The boy with his eyes and heart wide open. The boy who risked his life for others. This is why you are going to go...because this is who you are. The boy who saved my life.” she sighed in resignation, “a fool.”

Kian looked down for a moment, tasting each word as a personal, secret reward for all what he had walked in his path of making things right again. Then, he spoke with a calm tone, “ Would you help while I'm gone?.”

“This is not my war, Kian.” 

“But it's mine. And what happens here will change the Balance for all time to come.” 

Behind the crates, Likho's hands relaxed completely, and swore at his mind silently for his own excessive mistrust. Every little test, every chance to be betrayed, and yet, that man kept passing them, being honest and loyal. And that was painful. Why it was more difficult to hate that man over time?. He kept regretting to have wasted another chance to justify his ire on him and kill him immediately. But deep inside him, he could feel a relief, a warm sentiment of mid joy. Kian was loyal. _Still_. And his trust could not help but keeping waving every minute.

“I didn't know you believed in the Balance.”

“I didn't.” Kian pressed the medallions under his cloth with his hand and dodge further questioning, “ Will you help the resistance in my absence?”

She left an annoyed sigh out from her chest,“ Fine, I'll help them.”

The sudden silence encouraged Likho to peer aside the crates, curious. He found the humans sharing a kiss. He hid again behind the crates, and remained silent despite his agitated heart, still struggling with mistrust. Or what he thought it was mistrust.

“What's that for?”, Kian said when they broke apart.

“For love, your idiot. I've loved you since you lifted me out of that gutter and saved my life. I've loved no one else. “

“I don't know if I can...”

“It's taken me over 20 years to find you... better come back alive...”

Lost in the memory of his first kiss with April, Likho did not perceived a couple of steps approaching. He was living once again the deep, silent angst and confusion when April smirked at him after cornering him against a wall and devouring his lips. He could not mutter anything, not even an excuse. Everything would have been so different if he would have stopped everything back then. If he would have said Kian's words a couple of seconds ago.

“Look what we got here. Spying on us?”

Suddenly, Anna appeared at his front, crossing her arms over her chest, tilting her head to a side, a slight frown on her face.

“Huh?”

“Or are you after Kian?” She peered through the crates that were hiding her from Kian's sight, and saw the back of the man walking to the main dock. “He is still there”. She looked at the big Dolmari, locking her eyes on him, but the man was wordless. “Are you going to spend the rest of the night looking at me like that?. Charming.” she rolled her eyes and straightened her cloak and hood. “That's why you two get along so easily.”

“We don't _get along_ , woman” his voice was louder of what he wanted to.

Surprised for the reaction, Anna blinked a couple of time, before speaking, “ Whatever. Are you going with him or not?”

Lowering his face just a bit, Likho muttered, “ I don't know...”

Anna sighed. “Look, he told me to help the resistance. Well, you already know that, you big stalker.” Likho raised an eyebrow, without missing the irony of the phrase. “I'll do as much as I can. He is going to Ge'en alone, and we both know he will get killed. If you want to help him to keep his head over his neck, follow him.  _Now._ He is going to take the West cloudship. And take this.” she gave him a small bag with medicines. “In case you need it, or maybe he needs it.”

When Likho took the bag, Anna moved her hand violently quick, and snapped her fingers close to his eye. His guards off lasted a fraction of second, and Likho grabbed her arm, twisting it in her back, while pressing her against the crates. “What the fuck was that?”

“Calm your shit down, idiot. It was... a good luck gesture I gave you, fucker. Give it back to me, you fucking ungrateful man.”

Likho released just a bit his pressure on her, but it was enough for Anna to turn over and escape from the grip, pushing him against the crates with a kick. “Don't fucking touch me again, bastard. If you do, I will spread your guts in the ground before you were dead on them.” Likho observed her with wary attention. There was something familiar in that. Violence shaped people in similar way. He could not blame her, at least, not for her reaction. “Now go, and bring him back alive.” she ordered him and ran in direction to the Old Town disappearing into the darkness of the streets.

Likho rubbed his eye and looked at the docks when a rusty sound of an elevator broke the silent atmosphere. He rushed with the bag of medicines on his back, ignoring the stabbing beat in his mind, focusing on that past moment when April left the Enclave and never came back. He never could get rid of the feeling telling him that if he had gone with her, she would have been still alive. A feeling he was noticing now, a deep void in his chest, a preamble of the loss. He could perceive it in the air since the moment Kian told Shepherd that he would save Bip. It was a looming terror that scared him, that fateful hunch telling him that whatever he was going to do, it would be critical.

“Kian, pull me up”. 

His mind was yelling at him to return to the Enclave, to let the enemy die, to stay and save this man's life for the Resistance's sake, for his own sake. He reached the border of the dock and his feet flew. A leap of faith made with the sure expectation of treason, but instead, a hand grabbed his own in a firm grip, pulling him from the Edge, from the long fall to the ground, from the cliff of Sorrow's Throat.

He knelt in the border of the elevator and looked down. It could have been so simply and flawless. Faking to take his hand, sliding it, leaving him to fall to death, returning to his masters asking for forgiveness to come back to his land. And instead...

All these months, and no treason at all, not even an attempt. Even though he listened him to say he was not a rebel, that he would never be one, that he was a _gh'azi._

Likho's jaw tensed . What was the meaning of that?.

He looked at Kian's profile, and for a second, his anger smoothed at the resemblance of April's profile, back then in the cave, lost in thoughts looking at the sea and the sky.

The situation was so sickening. His own actions, his own thoughts, this constant reminding of April, the pressure in his chest, his memory. Nothing of this had to be with walking into the wolf's lair, in a suicide mission. He had lost the adrenaline boost of those type of missions years ago. It was something else, crawling subtly underneath his skin.

His lips moved alone: “why did you pull me up?”

Sat in a crate, Kian glimpsed at him, relaxed, “you begged me to”.

Likho frowned, looking at the long fall from the elevator to the ground. “You are infuriating”,

Surprised, Kian turned his head and observed him directly, “what?, for pulling you up?”

“For keep on giving me no reasons to hate you”, Likho could not resist the eye contact and rubbed his eye.

Kian smiled sadly. “Aside from murdering your father in front of you?”.

Likho frowned, stroke by the memory. That bitterness so festered in his inside was now strange. It was like the target of his hatred had been changed, even though it was Kian still. “Well, aside from that.” He said, surrendered.

And the question took shape and voice in his mind.

Was that man sat in the crate, the same one that had killed his father?.

And he felt himself betrayed, by himself, by thousand of icy legs crawling under his Dolmari skin.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, any suggestion or correction will be appreciated.

The place was broad, but all the crates spread around made it look smaller, even suffocating. Sometimes, when the wind snuck through the small cracks of the ship, a rancid smell came out from some corners. There was a constant hum filling the air that despite the sombre atmosphere provided a relaxing effect.

However, no matter the tranquillizing sound, Likho could not restrain himself from walking back and forth, sometimes stopping his nervous movement at the small window and getting lost through it. Memories, fears, and pain. That was all what was filling his mind. Once in a while, he swallowed hardly and forced himself to cough just to remember he was still breathing when the feeling of being suffocated by water was hard to endure in silence. He never thought that being inside a cloudship once again could awake so many desperate memories. It was impossible to guess what kind of effect would produce on him to return to Ge'en.

Meanwhile, observing the Dolmari from a dark corner, Kian scrutinized his behaviour not without concern. The Dolmari's yellowish eye was entirely focused on the outside, and despite its colour, there was not a clue of anger but fear. A fear closer to despair. That feeling was so strong that part of it was transmitted to his hands, giving them a slight trembling. Kian remembered Likho's scars on his ankle and instep, and even though he could not guess the exact reasons, he knew that this odd behaviour had to be related to the past; that past that sometimes triggered Likho's most irrational instincts. Being alone with a nervous Dolmari with a deep hatred against Azadi seemed now less safe than when he pulled him up.

Likho rubbed his eye, trying in vain to wipe away his piercing headache. He took another medicine from his belt-pocket and drank it, sighing in a painful way while looking through the window. The sky. He had to focus on the sky, on clouds, on the moon. Not in the past, in that stormy night, in the day he was caught, in the month full of tortures that-

“Likho...”

He startled at the sound of the human voice, but did not move. Unconsciously, he stopped breathing for a couple of seconds. This interruption had forced him to focus on the present. In that night. In that bright moon. In that man's words.

“I'm sorry about your father. I know that may not amount too much now, but...”

Likho frowned, barely able to believe what he was listening. How many times during his teenage he dreamt with that murderer begging him for forgiveness, regretting his deeds, not by own will but as a consequence of tortures. How many times he had thought in a long list of twisted procedures to destroy any honour and pride that the murderer could have before begging him to stop. How much pleasure the thought of denying him such forgiveness had fed Likho's insomniac nights?. But none of those lucubrations were close to this. He had never thought in the remote possibility of listening an apology from his father's killer without pain caused by his own daggers. And still yet... Why?. Why was Kian doing that?. Why now? Why there?... Likho closed tight his eye, giving to the Azadi his less gestural profile and swallowed.

“There's been so much death on the road to this place. What did I gain from these actions? What did it change? What would have been different had I acted differently?. All of these choices, Likho, they add up. My soul is heavy. The others believe me unaffected, because I carry on as if nothing happened. But their faces and voices are there, when I close my eyes. Those deaths never leave me. No words can undo these deeds. There are no excuses for the wrongs I've committed. But I'm trying to heal the wounds I've inflected. It's a long journey, Likho, and-”

“I know.” He had to stop him, not sure why. He looked at him, wondering if this was just a charade, but the conflicted eyes of the Azadi were not a lie. That man was so unlike of that young murderer that pierced his father's chest with that enormous sword. So different that frightened him. He swallowed, and words came from his mouth, not sure if he had control over them, “When you arrived from Friar's Keep, I wanted you dead.”

Kian smirked at him. “Really?. I couldn't tell.”

Likho chuckled, thanking silently that stupidity that sometimes that man had no shame in showing. Then, he looked again through the window, “and people say you have no sense of humour”, he sighed, “We've been through much since then. I believe I know you a little. You've taken up arms against your own people, risking shame, death, and your immortal soul, because you believe they're misguided. It cannot be easy being hated and feared by  _both_ sides.” Likho turned to Kian and observed him. There was, for an ephemeral moment, that sudden admiration he used to  _suffer_ for that man. An admiration that was painful to recognize. A man who could  _deal with_ all the fears Likho had struggled with in silence during his whole life. A man, he repeated several times in his mind, so different to the child that had spilled his father's blood. “I may still despise you because you murdered my father. I may still dislike you because you're an arrogant and intolerant shit. I may detest you for being a symbol of how wrenched we, Magicals, are that we need to find leadership in your cocky image. But I respect you, Kian. And I trust you.” his words fell as a natural act, as his eye fell on Kian's lips. There were many alarms in his mind telling him to stop talking, but still yet...

“That trust goes both ways, Likho.” 

Then, he felt that warm hand on his back, and he fixated on him. He could feel it, the  _ga'andaar_ sneaking beneath his skin, the temptation setting on fire all the alarms that were preventing him to do what the creature was pursuing. His body, the lust, the memory, that frightening feeling, the hangover. Such a pleasant confusion. He approached Kian a bit, looked down to his lips, and saw that tongue wetting them. Self-conscious of the situation, he drowned the beast inside him and turned away, terrified. A lifetime of regret was not enough to clean the monstrosity he had felt in that fraction of second, and ran away. He could not  _deal with_ that. “Well, I'm taking a nap. This half of the hold is mine. Stick to your side, or I may stab you in my sleep.” He said and swallowed hardly. 

“Don't worry, I have no intention of cuddling up next to you.” Kian said, angry for something he could not understand completely, and frowned. The situation had been as strange as their reactions. He almost could listen Enu asking him _“Really? Cuddling?”_. He needed to sleep. 

 

 

They fell asleep at some point in the night. However, due to Likho's sudden movements and his occasional suffocations, Kian could only rest lightly. Bored, or maybe too afraid for being alone in the concious world but too proud to explicitly say it, Likho called him.

Kian sighed and moved his head towards Likho, who was some steps far away from him, sat in the floor.

“Did I ever tell you how my society views people like us?.”

_Us_ . Kian frowned still sleepy.  _Rebels?_ . “I don't believe so. What do you mean?”, he yawned.

Likho rubbed his eye, “The Dol-Intiqua consider themselves tolerant and inclusive in all matters, and yet I've always had to hide who I am to my family and friends... They-They would punish… it.”

Stretching his arms, Kian sat in the crate he had been sleeping on, and looked at the Dolmari, trying to make sense of his words. The logical chain of thoughts surprised him a bit. That explained all those hating expressions that the Dolmari used time ago. They were not meant to him but to himself. “Oh. I see. And according to what you told me before... that's a problem for you, right?. Would your people skin you alive?”

Likho stopped his words and sighed in a tortured way. “If they know that you dragged another Dolmari to that...  _path_ . Yes. But... I've never done that. In my case, I'd only be ostracised.”

“Only?” Kian snorted, hard to believe the chosen words.

Likho accompanied that sound with a shy, sad chuckle. “I know. Tolerance, it seems, has its limits for my people. But in the Resistance no one cares. This...  _thing..._ we share...” his voice cracked, frightened for how easily he was speaking aloud, how submissively he was accepting the destruction of his soul and yet, something inside him turned lighter. “...doesn't change how they feel about us. It's strange.. strange but liberating.”

Kian remained silent for a moment processing the information. Then, he frowned. “I thought you loved April Ryan.”

The name was so beautiful to hear, so warm to feel. “I did, I  _do_ .. but not like that. She was someone I cared deeply about, and always will. But I could never have shared my life with her. I still miss her, every day. She gave me strength.” Liko's voice waved again. 

It was clear for Kian that the man at his front was on his edge. Even though the Dolmari was complicated, it was easy to realise that during those last days, Likho had been living his weakest times from a moral point of view. The man was slowly collapsing at his front, too tired for building the usual walls around him.

Silent, Kian looked for a crate with the Azadi symbol of food and opened it, taking from it several pieces of bread and a couple of bottles, and sat aside the Dolmari, some inches far away from him. Likho did not seem to mind this proximity, or maybe he was still lost in some longing memory of April.

Kian opened a bottle and gave it to Likho, who drank and accepted the bread.

In silence they ate and drank, looking into the darkness of the cargo hold, barely illuminated by the silver light of the moon passing trough that small window.

“You never had a problem with her being human?” Kian frowned after asking. Why was he doing that question?. What did he care?.

“I may hate humans, and mainly Azadi, but that doesn't mean I cannot recognize good people among them.” Likho gave him a deadly gaze, but turned away before adding, “Look at me now.”

Kian stopped chewing for a second, and a tiny smile curved his lips. A gentle warm spread all along his body, while Likho continued speaking.

“Bachin was a human too. And he was such a great man. Probably one of the first ones I met that showed me the importance of humans inside the Resistance. He was a good friend.”

Kian's smile disappeared, and a bitter taste fulfilled his mouth instead. In that regards, there were not enough apologies to fix that injustice.

“But he chose his own path. I can say that I respect that, even though it's hard to respect a friend's decision to die.” He chuckled, remembering _that_ day in the Salty Seaman, “he was the first to know my... secret. I was terrified, but he didn't care.”

The warm wave of gentle emotion kept spreading all along his body. Kian knew bonding through battle was a thing, but another entirely different was this one they were doing right there. Baring part of themselves that were not allowed to show, the fragility of their souls, the trembling fear shaping their past. Emotions that were not contained in anger, hatred, and despair, but in the core itself of humanity.

It was when Kian's mind shook, and the thought that maybe, in a different world with less war and blood, both of them would have ended in a tavern after a long day of work in a farm, talking like that, knowing each other to find something in common to relax, to bond. Who could imagine the rest. Maybe it would have ended in something deeper than a friendship. A dangerous thought that was getting more intense over time, as it did the scent of forest.

Kian pressed his lips in a thin line and looked at the Dolmari carefully. That man was offering him his less damaged profile. The moonlight made his cheekbones stand out with elegance, his eye, softened by the vulnerability, had a white flickering spark inside, and his thick lips glittered due to the thin surface of humidity that the last sip of water had left on them. There was not anger in his figure but exhaustion, an endless tiredness product of fighting for so long. Resistance had taken its toll on that man, scarring his body to disfiguring it. However, there was also a delightful charm that made him marvellous. Perhaps it was the admiration, and that fresh scent of forest, that turned that exhausted man into a mature gem that combined the wisdom of who lived for so long with the danger of who has been torn apart many times.

Kian blinked twice, trying to break the sudden charm he was into. “Likho, how do you deal with it?”

At first, the man looked at him surprised, then smirked. “you are such a little shit.”

Kian chuckled. “Well, it's not a joke... _entirely_.”

“I can tell you _Fuck you, Alvane_. Now, taking it more seriously... well...” For a long moment, the only sound that was heard in the cargo hold was the humming machinery of the cloudship. Likho sighed and ate a piece of bread. The mood had changed. “I don't even know. In fact, I'm not sure I can deal with that in any sense.”

"But you... you have been with other men already. That Zhid..."

Likho raised his eyebrows and looked out of the corner of his eye at Kian. "It's not like... that doesn't mean...No. I-I... No. "

“The way love-”

“No. It's not love, _Ga'andars_ can't... love.” he interrupted Kian's words too aggressively, leaving the Azadi wordless for a couple of seconds. 

“You always say that... but you loved April. Is that not proof enough that _they_ can?”

"It's... It's not the same. She was a woman."

"Huh? But were you different?, was your nature different back then?" He insisted, "wasn't it?"

Likho remained silent for a moment, until he got courage enough to ask looking aside. “Have you ever loved someone?”

Kian grunted. The question had backfired on him. “Uh. That's complicated.”

“Anna?”

“Huh? No!. I never had interest in women, Likho. _Never_. But I was a soldier. As I told you, there were many reasons to keep it shallow. The training camp was not a place to bond, but to compete. And once I turned an Apostle... you can't waste time on that anymore.”

Likho looked at him, enjoying the irony. “Your Goddess forces you to be chaste?”

He sighed. “It was not like there were many chances of anything else, anyway. Apostle's life is too busy... and blind.”

“That brings us to the main point. This thing we share makes us unable for... something as pure as love...”

Kian choked with his sip of water and laughed softly. “Pure?, You biased Dolmari.”

“Huh?” Likho glared him, a bit of his pride had been hurt. 

“Do you think that love is pure? That there is only one type of love?. That love between male and female is always honest?, only focused on offspring?.” Likho looked aside, now a bit ashamed. “You always hated Azadi's simplistic views, but don't you believe that this way of thinking is similar to theirs? You were the one telling me that it was liberating to live outside your Dol-Intiqua tradition. I don't see it. Maybe you are still living inside it.”

Likho glared at the man askance, “Look at me. I'm blue, your idiot. It's not like something you can take off from me." He sighed. "I live in a world that hates my people just because _this_. _This_ is what condemns us all and it's what keeps us together."  Likho lifted his arm and extended it in front of Kian's face, unconsciously letting him to smell that delightful scent of his skin "My people have survived many atrocities thanks to what we are, to our culture. How dare you to tell me to deny this?. This is why my people ends in your servant's soup, this is what means to have _this_ skin. A curse and a reason of pride. There is no way to rip it off from me, Alvane. And I'll never let anyone to take it from me either. I endured a hell because this. You can't tell me to just wipe it out from my mind."

Kian pushed gently the arm, "I'm not telling you anything. I'm just saying that, as your people did with your God of War, you can change your own perceptions of the world, and for doing that, you need to live outside your traditional rules. At least for a time. How would you know if it is better or worse when you never leave your own reality?”

“Huh. Quite hypocrite to tell me that.” The Dolmari said biting a piece of bread.

“I know. I know that we, Azadi, brought to others what we think it's the best, but we never went outside of our own frame. Exactly that's why I'm telling you this...What do your people win from having fellows feeling despised by them? It makes no sense to me to ostracise useful individuals to your community, tearing their families apart, and even worse, encouraging betrayal.”

Likho's chewing stopped short, “What?”

“Keep pushing people to live a life they don't want to, and you will get a rebel. I thought it was pretty clear considering… our situation. The harder you push, the more violent you get. This can go even further: an individual hating their own community due to the mistreatment they have suffered for years will only feed an unstoppable resentment. People who have to decide between their roots and their own nature, both of them diametrically opposed, tear apart sooner or later. And individuals who are in pieces, isolated, exhausted, are dangerous ones.”

Likho moved his lips, as if he were going to say something, but words did not come. The sharp image of Palevan had taken control of his mind, as it did the memory of those brazen blue legs around that bulky Azadi General. He wanted to deny the possibility, but Kian's words echoed in his skull. What if Palevan's betrayal had born from that resentment? After so many years and thoughts on the matter, he had never got a plausible reason behind that terrible action. At least not a reason beyond the _ga'andaar_ explanation. What could make a Dolmari to betray his own people?. After a moment of reflection he swallowed that raw true and finally added, "maybe... you have a point there.”

And all what they could heard was the humming machinery in the cargo hold feeding their own thoughts.

 

 

As sudden as the armoured steps heard in the prow coming from his darkest memories, Likho awoke panting. He could not stand up, dizzy, so he crawled until reaching a corner of the cargo hold, dark as the night itself. He hid his face in that angle, scratching the wood when the suffocation was hard to bear. He coughed and choked many times, forcing his lungs to work desperately. The noise awoke Kian immediately, whose instinct led him to draw the sword halfway. “Likho? Are you okay?, are you-?”

“I'm fine” the Dolmari said briefly, coughing compulsively, hitting softly his chest to help the air to come in.

Worried, Kian approached the man and put his hand on Likho's back, but the Dolmari just pushed him away violently. “Get away from me, _gh'azi_.” Likho choked, pressing his chest for air. “Stay away. Don't fucking move, Azadi.”

Surprised due to the violent reaction, Kian quickly stood up and opened the small window. Fresh, cold air filled the cargo, and slowly, Likho recovered his normal breath. Then, Kian sat in a crate, looking at the corner barely distinguishing the curled man who was giving him his back while coughing, and spoke, letting his worry tinge his tone.  “ Are you sick? Is this something we should know?”

“No... it's not an illness, not that way. It's just... memories.”

The humming sound filled the silence between them. Trying to guess, Kian asked in a soft tone, “has this something to do with your scars? In your ankles and-”

The man chocked a bit, as a way to ensure he would be able to breathe for a while, then, with a sore, tired voice, Likho added, “Those are your people's doing.” Kian looked away, confirming his suspicions, “Years ago, I was caught, brought into one of this damned ships, and I was sent to Ge'en. It was a whole month in hell.”

Kian blinked, “So you did know what happens there”

“Of course not. I barely was outside the torture room. I didn't even remember the place. There is only pain in my memory. Coming back to that hell...”

“You should have stayed in the Enclave, Likho. This could put you in danger... Why you didn't think about this before...”

“I don't want you dead.” He whispered after a long inhalation. “The Resistance needs you, Shepherd needs you. Enu is fond of you... and your life is mine.”

Kian looked at him in disbelief, but that warmth inside his chest was enough to not complain. "And it's your own people. You forgot that part." He said gentle, but he only received a deadly look that, over time, it had been turning into a less threatening thing.

* * *

 

It did not take more time for the couldship to reach Ge'en. When both of them stood in front of the camp's entrance, Kian looked at the Dolmari's profile, his best one, and admired that proud demeanour. The man was scared to the bones, he could guess it easily due to the slight tremble of his hands but still yet, he kept looking straight into the camp, analysing and planning without letting his fears to meddle. In that moment, Kian could see a glimpse of what had been that young leader in the Dol-Intiqua Resistance; a man with a strong resolve, a cool head when it was needed, and a sharp strategical thinking to measure the consequences and the risks of any action. Likho certainly transmitted all that in his confident way of standing, looking straight into the monster's jaws. 

That young boy who had witnessed his father's death, had turned into a man worth following. For a fraction of second, Kian imagined that man, younger, leading thousands of Dolmari into battle, killing one of the most skilful Azadi high officers, enduring the procedures of Alrik's manual, a terrifying list of tortures he had learnt during his training. Even though the time and so much pain had twisted his personality in something that was not destined to be, the core of the man was almost intact, and it was sublime. 

In a blink of an eye, his mind went further, and could not help but thinking in the end of any Rebel. An alternative future was pictured in his mind, in which Likho's corpse was inside the Enclave, his body slaughtered as if it would have been used like a shield. Despite the pain and the blood loss, that eye, even in the end, refused to blink, to be closed before the terrible injustice. Disturbed by the image, Kian touched the arm of that dead Dolmari, and thankfully, that image blended with the reality, where Likho kept looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Shitting your pants?"

Kian stepped aside, and released the Dolmari's arm. He blinked, in an attempt to remind the reason they were there.

"Try not to die. You still owe me your life." Likho added after a chuckle.

“I didn't forget.” He swallowed, feeling that warmth in his chest.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, any suggestion or correction will be appreciated.
> 
> Current mood of the fic: Canon?. What's that?.

The monstrosities that camp had were far beyond Kian's imagination. One thing was to slave Magicals to force them to work for the Empire, other entirely different was  _this_ . The experiment for a definitive extinction. A world without people like Enu, like Bip, like...  _him_ . This was madness.

Ge'en looked to him like one of those novels of mysteries and horror he had been reading recently. Out of the blue, the protagonist uncovered terrible truths that were worse than the previous one, sailing in an ocean of information hard to grasp so suddenly. But unlike those stories, these events were happening in reality. Those documents proving the monstrosity were as real as the rotten stench around him.

He blinked when the door opened abruptly. Likho passed through after slitting the soldiers' throat in a clean movement, then, he shook the daggers to clean the blood in them. Kian could not hide his tiny smile. He was glad that grumpy man was still alive.

"So, what have you been up to? Aside from all the stabbing." Kian said, trying to sound not so relieved of seeing him safe and sound.

"Meh. Freeing prisoners. Arming them with Azadi blades and spears, blowing things up." Likho said with a delighted smile curving his lips. Sweet revenge always smoothed his temper.

"Sounds fun"

"It was.. I-" Likho said still smirking, until he spotted the child on a table and frowned, "Is that Bip?"

"He is, and he is unharmed, thanks to th-"

Before Kian could end his phrase, several men entered the room, weapons in hands. It was Hami with a dozen of soldiers, wielding swords and shield, focusing on Likho with an aggressive stance. Quick as usual, the Dolmari's first reaction was to draw his daggers and prepare himself to jump against the soldiers, planning who was going to die first. However, Kian stepped at his front facing him, his back given to the soldiers in a foolish or maybe too unwary gesture. "Please, leave this to me. Calm down. Can you trust in me?" Kian whispered close to Likho's face.

The Dolmari looked beyond Kian and scrutinized each soldier before sheathing his daggers. A deep grunt of disapproval was all what he gave as an answer.

Taking under control his comrade, Kian turned over his heels and faced Hami. The man was calm, but his suspicions were impossible to hide. Giving a step forward and resting his arms behind his back, Hami spoke as in a command, "You'd better have a good excuse, Kian." Hami approached him, but he never stopped looking at the Dolmari. All the soldiers that were at his back followed him and raised their weapons as Likho's tension increased with each step.

“I want you to listen to me but, can you put your weapons down?. Likho won't attack”.   
Likho grunted, a bit annoyed to listen an Azadi to speak over his own will. 

“You are not in a position to request me such a thing, Kian.” Hami said. 

“Let me open the drawer of this desk” Kian pointed the furniture with his hand, and slowly, walked to it. Then, he put the papers on the surface, "look at these documents, Hami." 

A long curse came from the bottom of the floor that startled the soldiers. The administrator, still surrounded by corpses, threatened Kian in a vain attempt to stop him. Mistrustful, Hami took the papers from the desk and read them aloud. The detailed plans for an experimental extermination of Magicals did not produce any reaction on his face. Kian did not want to believe that was a bad omen.

He gave to him other documents that explained the irregularities that had been happening in the camp for years. Hami's voice stopped in middle of the reading and went silent to the end, as if he wanted to be sure that he had not misread it. While doing so, Kian slyly approached the Dolmari and stood in front of him, this time facing Hami. He could not risk to expose Likho as an easy target.

At first, the Dolmari was wary to such movement. The thought that it could be a trick to finally betray him, to take his head and give it to the Azadi in exchange of forgiveness, crossed his mind. But his delusional persecution stopped when he saw three soldier in the bottom of the group, with pistols aiming to him, and the only thing that was stopping them from firing was The Apostle at his front. He swallowed ashamed of his own endless mistrust.

"What with this?" Hami finally said, ending his silent reading. Kian and Likho looked at him, shocked. Had they heard right?

"So-so, you knew about this", Likho's furious voice was restrained in an effort that made his voice stutter.

"Not with such details, but what could you expect from a prison camp?" Hami's cold voice tensed Likho who drew his daggers, but Kian put a hand over Likho's chest, while the other stood in the air, halting the soldiers that were already prepared for fighting. Twelve armoured soldiers plus Hami were more than challenging for him and a tired, angry Dolmari.

"Likho, please. Trust me", he begged.

A heavy breath through the warrior's nostrils was all the reaction he could offer, unable to sheathe his daggers or even talk. His eye, flickering in yellow anger, was fixated on Hami.

"This means you agree with this?" Kian's voice broke the tension. The pressure that Likho was putting on his hands was partially released when he heard Kian. At least, that Azadi was still on his side.

Hami threw the paper on the desk and spoke, "it's not my place to judge. We will bring this problem to a proper trial and we-"

"And will you decide what's justice from what it's not?, a  _justice_ my people know quite well. Your Azadi trials are a charade. Just remember what happened with the fucking Aslaf. You decided that a group of children were the assassins. You were not even good enough to find the one who killed that shit."

Hami frowned at him and crossed his arms. "Are you speaking about the High General Aslaf?"

"The same fucking sickening general, that one with a twisted taste in Dolmari and beds."

Hami twitched his mouth in disgust. "And how do you know about such an old case, may I pry?. Should I assume that you know the murderer?"

"I do." Silent and wary, Kian looked at Likho trying to warn him, but the Dolmari did not care, "But I won't tell you. You showed already how useless is your justice when you sent a group of Dolmari children to face execution. Tell me, do you really think a child of ten years could kill a general and skin his sexual toy alive?, two?, three kids?. Please."

Kian looked at Hami, thinking fast in something that could shift his attention from that matter. He did not know which was more dangerous, if Hami naturally concluding that Likho had been the killer of that honourable general, or Likho provoking the man with his words, apathetic of the consequences for revelling such truth in front of thirteen Azadi who honoured their former High General. Both men were in a flammable point that needed only a spark to explode, “Hami, please. Listen to me...”

The old man stepped forward and looked at Kian with hurt eyes. “I didn't want to believe this. I told Utana you were a traitor. She convinced me to listen to you at least once... but you...” He observed the Dolmari for a long moment and then looked at him back. “They infected your mind-”

“You can't say that, Hami. Look around. Look down there!” He pointed out the pit where the administrator was still crying. “This is real. We did this.” he extended his arms, in a gesture to show the whole room and by extension the whole camp and Ge'en itself. “Is this the Goddess' true desire? Not to bring light upon the willing but to force them to extinction?. Look!” he pointed out towards Bip. “That boy was going to be dissected by that mad woman. He is a child, Hami. Is this the goddess' true purpose? to kill him? Is this the price to follow her?”

Hami shook his head slowly in deep disbelief, bitter tone tingeing his voice. “They destroyed your faith, Kian.”

Surrendered, Kian's arms fell, as a fallen soldier in a lost battle. His look fell to the ground as well. “This is it, isn't it?... do you really believe all this is necessary? You... you support this... hell.”

“I'll repeat myself, Kian. It's not my place to judge.”

Kian stepped forward abruptly; the soldiers moved their weapon in his direction but stopped short as Kian shouted at them. “Think!. I'm not saying you need to judge anything. Just think!. Nothing of this sickening island makes you question? Not even a single doubt?”.

Hami stood akimbo, “ Do you think the Six were not aware of this already when they sent you here to destroy that damned Scorpion?”

“Don't call her that” Likho said in a particular deep voice that tensed soldiers and Hami alike. 

“So, it's over. I see. Things are this way.” Kian added looking down. That man in front of him was the closest to a father he had ever had, but he was a blind father. Woefully blind. “Hami. Leave this island. Now. With all your soldiers-”

“I don't think you are in a position to-”

“ _You_ are not in a position to request anything. This camp is full of angry Magicals, recently freed, wielding weapons, and they outnumber your soldiers by thousands. You touch one of them, and no Azari would leave this island alive.”

“No Magicals would do so...”

“No magical in this place has anything else to lose.”

“We neither!” the administrator's voice came from the pile of corpses in the pit. Sick of her voice, of her actions, of the enormous Azadi blindfold, Kian took a small dagger from the back of his belt and throw it to the administrator, piercing her forehead in a clean, fast hit. Her head fell hanging lifeless aside. Hami gasped looking in horror at Kian. Now it was treason, no doubt. All his soldiers lifted their swords; half of them kept looking at Likho, who still had his daggers in his hands; the rest focused on the betrayer.

“You have just done the greatest mistake of your life, Kian.”

He shook his head. “No. That was justice. A late justice.” he observed the corpses in the pit. They were hundreds to fill the place in that way. Of course it was justice. “I can do a greater mistake. But I don't want to. Please Hami, for the last time, leave this Island. Protect Utana. And both of you return to Sadir. Vanom is a dead man. Count on it. Magicals do not want Azadi in their lands anymore. Time has come for them to retake what always had been theirs.”

Likho rotated his shoulders slowly as he spread his feet a bit adopting an attacking stance. Even though they were only two men, one of them was a big Dolmari fighter, famous warriors with will made of steel that required more than six Azadi to kill just one. The other man was an Apostle, well known for being able to destroy a whole troop of the unfaithful with only his sword. Hami knew by his own that Kian's fame was not just a tavern story.

If they were going to fight in that moment, it was hard to guess who would win. Besides, Hami still had duties related to the investigation of Sahya and Vanom, he did not want to risk his men in vain, so he chose wisely.  “ Very well...” Hami finally said, sheathing his sword and, with a gesture of his hand, commanded to the rest of his soldiers to do the same. “I will accept the offer. I guess I can trust in your word, even though you are a confirmed traitor now.”

“I'm not a traitor, I've just awaken. But yes, you can trust my word. Your soldiers and you will leave the island unharmed. But leave now.”

Hami turned over his heels and before leaving, he observed the Dolmari. “So, is this the Dolmari gratitude? We saved you all from the invaders-”

“Save your words. Look around. Can we be grateful for being exterminated? Treated like live-stock?.” Likho's voice was deep and raspy. , “Besides, killing the first invaders doesn't make you less invader, Azadi. You _are_ the invaders. You'll always be.” 

Hami left the room followed by Likho to ensure they would leave the island unharmed. Meanwhile, Kian lifted Bip and walked to the main camp where some healers had put tents to treat those who still had a chance. They had to start planning from that moment on.

* * *

 

“You have no right to do that!” the Dolmari man yelled at Likho.

“I will. We must to protect everyone.”

“I've been in this damned camp for a whole year, bowing before g _h'azis_ , and now one of my kind is doing their job?”

Likho snarled. “Do not fucking compare me to those shit”

“You are acting like one.”

Likho drew his dagger and jumped at the man, pressing the blades on the Dolmari's throat. “I have little patience, I'm tired and fucking sick of  _gh'azis_ , same as you. Don't anger me more of what I'm already, and accept the fucking command.”

The man brought some Dol'ave words in the air, and Likho set him free, sheathing his dagger. “I know. I'm sorry, but this is a command.”

The group of Dolmari spat aside Likho's feet and walked away, all of them giving him furious looks. Only then, Likho relaxed his muscles and his face took its tired expression.

The piercing-like sensation in his eye made him rub it while noticing the rotten stench of bodies.

He turned around looking at the several pits in the camp, full of forgotten bodies, half eaten by maggots.

So much loss.

He looked at a group of Magical aside, “You, start burning them all. One pit by time.”

The group nodded in silence and disappeared beyond the pits.

* * *

 

  
In less than two hours, the only Azadi remaining in the whole camp was Kian. Hami, his soldiers, and all the jailers had left the isle in a cloudship. The rest of the Magicals were set free and were treated in medical tents spread all along the camp. Those who needed a longer treatment, were put inside the building after preparing its rooms. The amount of healers captured by Azadi had been large, and despite their bad shape, their nature allowed them to heal faster by simply resting. As soon as the healers could recover their energy, they started to treat others in order to recover in a short time as many as possible.

Still unconscious, Bip had been left in one of the tents after being examined. All what the boy needed was a bit of resting, according to the healer's words.

Going from a tent to another, and even sometimes entering the building, Kian was hard to be spotted in the crowded place despite being the only Azadi in the whole camp. It was clear that he was looking for someone.

While everyone was breathing freedom for the first time in a long time, Likho started to prepare plans for war. He walked to every tent talking with all the Magicals to know their resources: how many food there was in the isle, how many medical supplies they had, how many healthy soldiers he could count on. He needed to know how badly the large group in the building was, and what kind of intentions they had. It was not surprising that most of them, even those with the worst prognosis, were more than eager to join the Rebel forces in Marcuria. The ire, the thirst of revenge, the pain gave them strength despite the consequences of the experiments on their bodies.

 

Likho determined that they had to spend several weeks in Ge'en to recover most of his people and then, return to Marcuria to take back their lands and freedom.

He had found several cells of the Mole in the camp, former workers for the big Rat that wanted to share delicate information with him. The possibility that Rebel bases could be increased thanks to this information had sped his heart. Somehow, he felt younger, as if he were once again twenty years old, leading the Northern Dol-Intiqua group of the Resistance, wishing for a better future to live. But the illusion lasted short. He knew quite well that such emotions had made them lost Intiqua-aba, and he was determined not to lose Marcuria the same way they had done with their natal lands.

 

 

Night had fell over Ge'en, and the movement in the camps had decreased. He took advantage of the calmness to look for Kian in several tents, but nobody had seen him. Many told him that the Azadi had been back and forth from different places, looking for someone that nobody could remember. A detail that worried him. Once again, the mistrust covered him with a mantle of despair. What if Kian was going to show his  _true_ face now? What if this apparent success was not so different of what he had lived in Intiqua-aba, when a massive, synchronized attack to different bases left the Dol-Intiqua Resistance reduced to dust?. What if that human had been always a spy?. Old habits die hard.

He tried to calm down his agitated mind recalling Kian and Hami's confrontation several hours ago. That could not be a mere acting, could it be?.

Forcing himself not to keep thinking in that direction, he walked to Bip's tent to check his state. However, his steps stopped short when he peered through the tent's entrance that Azadi broad back.  _There you are_ . A warmth calmed his suspicions when he found the man in a place where he should be, but as long as he approached the place something else caught his attention. Aside Kian there were a couple of Dolmari in a bad shape, smiling and crying. Then, the woman knelt to hug tightly Bip. The man aside was rubbing the child's head, while talking to Kian. The kid was overwhelmed by the situation unable to choose what to do: crying, hugging them, or laughing.

A bitter crying need turned into a knot in his throat, that he managed to swallow it. His eye could not stop looking at the scene, trying to make sense from the past memories. That Dolmari man was in front of an  _Apostle_ , smiling, alive, caressing his son. A Dolmari family that was alive while facing an  _Apostle_ . 

In a casual look, Kian spotted Likho, and after patting that man's back, he left the Dolmari family alone, while approaching Likho with a smile on his face. A smile he had never seen in that Azadi before.

“I found them.” Kian said when he reached him, observing contented the scene at the distance. “They are exhausted. She is who has passed through the worst, but healers told me that they will make it. They are-”

“Bip's parents” Likho's barely could whisper, his voice was shattered by memories, by a contrast that he could not avoid to do. 

Kian rubbed his eyes, wiping out their humidity and smiled. Just a bit. That meeting had been a Goddess' gift, or maybe it was the way the Balance used to work.

Without paying attention on Likho, who was still lost observing the scene, Kian left the place walking to a nearby bonfire where a cauldron with soup was awaiting him. He took a bowl and poured a portion of the meal on it. After so many days in a cloudship with only water and bread, and after the tension all along the camp, a steamy bowl of soup was a banquet. He sat aside the bonfire and started to eat the meal, looking once in a while at Likho. The Dolmari was in shock certainly, because he still had not moved an inch.

When the soup reached the bottom of the bowl, Likho quitted the astonished observation to walk to a tent far away, close to the entrance of the camp.

Kian served himself a second bowl, and only when he ate it completely, he stood up and poured more soup, this time in two bowls. He went across the camp to reach the precarious tent. More than a tent it was a blanket arranged with some sticks to look like one. It did not cover much, but it was enough to have a short nap sheltered of the dew.

He found the Dolmari with his head hid between his arms which were resting on his kneels, curled in middle of the tent. It reminded him the lame shape in which Kian had found that man in that tavern some days ago. Not wanting to interrupt a moment of rest, Kian coughed to be sure that the Dolmari had not fallen asleep. Likho lifted his head for an instant, looked at him and then, returned to its previous position.

“May I enter?”, Kian said. The lack of answers was an approval, so Kian sat aside the Dolmari and put the extra bowl of soup aside him, eating his ration in silence while trying to guess the reason behind that odd behaviour of the Dolmari. Maybe it was the place. For what he knew, Ge'en could only bring painful memories to the Dolmari's tortured mind. He decided to remain silence, as the sounds in the camp decreased and the mood for sleeping took over the place. 

When a loud roar came from Likho's stomach, the man sat crossing his legs and ate the soup from the bowl, looking now at the stars. “Are you not going to regret it?”

Kian stopped chewing and swallowed. “No. I've done what's right.”

“Leaving the man alive? Or rejecting his offering?”

“Both.”

“You could have gained his favour so easily. You could have erased your traitor reputation with just-”

“But I didn't.”

For first time, Likho turned his face to Kian and looked at him. The torch light stood out the border of his face. “Why?”

“And are you still asking me?. I thought you trust in me”

Likho looked at the bowl held in his hands, defeated. Only then he realised that the bowl could have been poisoned. He had completely forgotten to check the possibility...“I do. Most of the time against my will... but you have wasted so many opportunities to get rid of me, of the Rebels, of everything... and yet, here you are.”

“Is it so hard to grasp what I've told you before?, I want to help healing. What I've done, it's done. _This_ , this is all what I can do now.”

Likho looked the sky. “Hmph. No second thoughts?”.

“No second thoughts.”

“But Hami is important to you, doesn't he?. Are you so sure to go against him?”  
Kian moved the spoon in his soup. “He is like a father to me.”

Raising an eyebrow, Likho looked at him feeling a cold sweat crossing his back. “What if you face him in battle?”

Kian revolved the spoon in the bowl, and ate a bit more before speaking. “Anyway, my father died too many years ago.”

Likho respected that not so subtle way of skipping the question. He looked far away at the sky,  “ What happened to him?”, 

“It doesn't matter now. He was killed when I was three years old. Mother Utana and Hami took care of me several years after, when I was a street kid. But... I wish they could see. They are wrong.”

“No second thoughts, uh?”

They went silent as Likho finished his meal. He put the bowl aside him, and Kian took it just to stack it on his own empty bowl. After a while, the smell of burnt flesh started to reach their nostrils and both of them wrinkled their nose.

“Burning bodies?” Kian looked far away, trying to see flames, but there was only smoke in the other extreme of the camp “so fast they prepared them?”. 

“They are burning them in the same common pits we found them. I gave the order.” Likho rubbed his eye. It had been annoying him so many days. “We wanted to give them proper bury, but… there are thousand and thousand of bodies. All of them infected. Some relatives wanted to prepare them, to take their tokens from them. I couldn't allow it and risk a propagation.” he frowned, not as if he were angry but in pain. “A group of them confronted me for that.”

“Token?”

“Originally, it was a Dol'tradition, now most Magicals do it. You assign an object of your possession for each of those that are important to you. It's a memento. So, when you die, or when you are sure you'll never see them again, you give this token to them. If you are dead, they simply take it from your corpse. With lighter shoulders, the dead or the traveller can leave in peace.” Likho breathed deeply, trying to release the knot in his throat. “It's painful to deny that memento. I know how comforting it feels to have it, how distressing is to have it denied. I have mine from my father, but the massacre in Dol-Intiqua forbidden me to take it from my mother. Her presence in my life has been weaker ever since. The token keeps us reminding those who are gone.”

“What kind of memento did you receive from your father?”

“The skinning kit.” Likho smirked, “he was such a fine artisan with leather. To think his son would only know about killing and breaking traditions. Such a shameful Dolmari I've became.”  
Kian observed the man whose profile touched by the torchlight gave to his features a purplish border, standing out his tired eye, his cheekbones, his jaw beard. There was also a small detail, a gesture of surrender in the way he spoke. It was as if he were a fallen soldier. Guilt or shame. It was hard to decide which sentiment tinged his behaviour with such dark accent. 

Kian put his hand on the Dolmari's bare shoulder, without realising the goosebumps spreading all over that blue skin. “Is there not another way? What if I take those tokens from them?, a human can't get the plagu-”

Likho raised an eyebrow. “We do not know how this experiment went. You may carry that shit without even knowing it. Besides… all those bodies. It will take you months for doing that.” Likho sighed, “Nevermind. It's not as if it were the first time our dead are denied to us. I'm more concerned about the living ones. We have a big ill group in quarantine. We can't leave this hell until we are certain that nobody carries that shit.”

“Reasonable.”

“Unfortunately, not for them. Some groups are not content with my decision. I know this night I will have to patrol myself the pits just to avoid them to look for their mementos.”

“I can help. I'm good at looking dangerous in front of Dolmari”

Likho chuckled, “tease them a bit and you'll be eaten alive, Alvane. But I appreciate the gesture. I-I wish things could be in a different way.”

“Agree.”

Both of them remained in silence, looking at the stars. The sky was clean, and the small sparks in the big mantle of darkness awakened their old thoughts.

From now on, things would turn less subtle and more violent. The loss would be a constant, increasing over time. War was a monster hard to handle, especially for those on the weakest side. It was a beast fed with the corpse of those who dream. He remembered his father, his mother, Delkram, all those who were part of a long list of friends and relatives whose corpses were used as the foundation of the Sadir's powerful walls. So much loss. War was a monster that devoured everything.   
Likho could not stop remembering April. He kept wondering what she would say in a night like that, with such a dark future ahead. No matter what memory he brought, he only could remember that darkened woman with jaded words, walking as a disposable soldier jumping into missions just to find the end. War was a monster that tired their victims, worn them out to the point to prefer death over a life of senseless exhaustion.

It was hard to decide if he himself was not one of those already. His heavy shoulders could not resist any longer.

Likho looked at Kian, timidly, while the chain of thoughts kept filling his mind. That man looked like he had no weight on his back, but on the contrary, he had to deal with two; one as being part of those who feed the monster and the other as those who try to kill it. Still yet, that man kept going on, strong, determined, powerful. Receiving with low head the hate of both sides. There were some things in that man that he admired deeply. He could not deny it.

A breeze brought to his nostrils more stench of burnt flesh, but also the acrid smell of Kian's sweat. Damned Azadi, they smelled like pigs. He tried to stay angry, to keep blaming him, to maintain those images of his teenage dreams in which he tortured that man in thousand different ways to force him to cry for forgiveness. But now, those dreams always ended in a bed full of sighs.  
Those dreams always kept him wonder. What would they have been if war had never happened?. Would he see him without that anger in his chest?. Would they have been more than what they were already? What they were anyway?.

Likho exhaled tortured, “Kian...”

“Mn?”

“Don't you think of yourself as a man go to waste?”

“is that a subtle way to insult me now?” He chuckled, thinking the Dolmari was just teasing him. However, Likho's silence followed by his tortured sigh said otherwise. “I don't know. I try not to think in that. When I've awoke in the Enclave, I thought that nothing I could do would be good. I'm not a Rebel, nor a Magical. I'm an Azadi, and I was an Apostle. I can't even hide that...” He brushed his cheek, remembering the tattoo on them, “But... I saw Bip's smile today, and his parents',” Kian's voice went lighter, “I could feel it. Something slightly healed. Maybe I can do more of it. If that's the path that the Goddess, the Balance, have given to me now, I'll do it. Until my last breath. I was taught, and I'm sure of it now, that there is no wasted _person_.” He turned his face to Likho “Neither human, nor _Dolmari_. We all can heal and be healed. Somehow.”

Likho closed his eye for a moment. April's image stabbed his chest. “Sometimes it's too late to be healed. What if is it?”. He turned to Kian and looked at him in silence. Both remained there, looking intensely to each other.

“It's late if you decide it so”. Pushed by the moment, Kian approached the Dolmari slowly, to give him time to turn away if he wanted to. Both of them went with the flow, without putting resistance to the moment ahead. The kiss was unavoidable, developing it in a calm, sad pace. There was so much gentleness in it, that both of them were surprised not only by themselves being involved in this way but also by the other, reacting so unexpectedly soft. In a life so overwhelmed by violence and blood, kindness was the last thing to cultivate. It was useless for war. However, there it was, gentleness caressing timidly each other's cheek, enjoying something that none of them were used to give or receive. A kiss that escalated in a playful way, trapping the other's lips with their own, never biting, only feeling the texture of the beard on his chin, until the shy tongue attempted to go further. Likho drew back slowly, afraid of the loosen feeling and the thousands hairy legs crawling underneath his skin. But he did not ran away. He simply remained there, close to Kian's face, their foreheads together, closer. He remembered Kian's words. _Living outside the traditions_. Cold sweat crossed his back. 

Slowly, they took a bit of distance, but Kian managed to sit closer to him, and remained in silence, while both of them recovered their mind from what had happened. 

A strange feeling warmed Kian's chest. He did not want to recognize that his admiration had passed the line. He could not look at the Dolmari immediately, so he bowed towards him, and rested his forehead on that bare shoulder. Maybe he was asking for forgiveness. What felt right a moment ago turned dirty, mixed with the memories of that Dolmari being pierced by his sword and the another one slitting his own father's throat. That delicious smell of forest and sea coming from that blue skin increased his guilty feeling. When had his annoyance for that Dolmari turned into _that_?.

“So... You think things can be healed no matter what.” Likho looked at the sky, accepting the man on his shoulder. 

“I'm sure of it.”

The Dolmari sighed, surrendered. “Kian, I told you I trust in you. What I didn't tell you is that... it scares the hell out of me.” he closed his eye tightly, as something inside pierced his chest.

* * *

 

During four weeks, everything had been settled down for the former prisoners of Ge'en to return to Marcuria. Brave soldiers that endured the living hell that Azadi had crafted in their detailed manuals of torture and experimentation were more than eager to fight in the battle ahead. Sadly, many of them perished during those days in quarantine, with exhausted bodies and broken souls. Others, maybe the luckiest ones, maybe not, could make it and joined the groups.

Many of those who worked for the Mole had ended in the isle completely uncommunicated with their boss. They had been considered as dead. Now, they were an important key to use in the same moment they would put a feet on Marcuria. As workers of the Mole, all of them knew in details the whole complex structure of the tunnels underground. They knew how to connect many small villages surrounding the Old Town's coast with the Mole's house. It was easy to go North and East through the tunnels if the traveller knew which side to follow. So, the idea came up naturally.

The nearest city to Old Town was a fishing village in the Northern forest, a place extended all over the base of the mountains. Its population had been decreasing over the years and by now it was more than likely that the whole place was empty. It was a perfect strategic point. Far away from the centre of Azadi power in Marcuria, but still yet, close enough. That place was going to turn into the second main base of the Rebels. A whole village that half of Marcuria considered as a ghost town. Perfect hideout.

The memory of connected bases had brought Likho the bitter taste of the past. They were an advantage but could weaken the whole organization in a blink of an eye. Although these tunnels had the particular characteristic of being a maze itself, it did not smooth his wariness. He had to worry, more than ever, about the spies that could memorise the paths. Damn parasites.

The second base had now a new place to settle down, as well as a clear organization. Several group of Magicals, prisoners in the isle, had developed small groups that were thinking in resistance inside Ge'en. Under Azadi noses they had established a sophisticated structure, with ranks and functions to everyone. Likho could not be more proud of them, considering that the big majority were Dolmari. It was something deep inside his people's blood, something that History had marked in their souls, that thirst for freedom, that savage need for sovereignty.

This configuration made easy to determine who were going to be local leaders in that new second Rebel base.

There were fine fighters to defend the base, but also powerful healers, even more useful in times of war, and amateur engineers that could develop magical powder for explosives as well as enchanted weapons. The few alchemists in the group were enough to produce a massive amount of potions to enhance their natural magical abilities. There were even farmers that would turn a desert into a field of food. Certainly, Magicals like those, together and angry, looking for freedom, were a sight for sore eyes.

There were only small conflicts with a group of Dolmari too radical to accept an Azadi in the rebel lines, but somehow Likho could convince them to, at least, work together for a while. He also promised them that, once the war is over, he would kill the Azadi with is own hands. With that, the group seemed satisfied; they could not doubt him considering the respect that Likho had among them. After all, he had been a well known Rebel in his youth, who lived in Intiqua-aba, too close to Sadir to develop kindness and forgiveness for any Azadi.

 

 

Dozens of cloudships sailed from Ge'en.

Their cargo holds were full of supplies, Azari weapons and Magicals recovering from the brutal treatment they had received in the camp. Some, still surrounded by healers, others mourning their dead, killed time by resting or talking among them. The calm before the storm.

Kian spent the first three days in the ship with Bip, taking care of the boy as well as talking with his parents. His mother was now recovered, and his father limped every time he walked, but at least he was alive. Bip's parents were going to be an invaluable asset for the Resistance, considering his father was going to teach in mass the principles of the magical bombs; while his mother, a clever alchemist, was going to improve everyone's natural abilities through potions. If there was something they were going to teach to their child was to fight for freedom to the last consequences. 

In the forth day, Kian was surprised to have never spotted Likho in the ship. Not even when they were rationing the food. Worried for his absence, Kian looked around, in all the ship's levels. The only last place he did not checked was the room he had taken, far away from the rest of the crowded area.

Kian put his ear close the door and heard that messy breathe he had seen in Likho during their travel to Ge'en. It seemed that, as usual, the Dolmari had decided to deal with his weaknesses alone. Kian went to the cargo hold and brought with him some food and water. He knocked the door several times but Likho did not answer. He opened slowly the door, and the creaky sound altered the Dolmari, who was in a corner, sweating, hiding his face in the angle of the walls, curled on the bed. He turned his head a bit and his eye, flickering in an angry yellow, looked at Kian in the moment he put a foot in the room.

“Go away. Release me.” he whispered, goosebumps all along his body while the memory of the skin being cut and the daggers sinking his flesh hit his mind over and over. For a moment, the image of Alrik faded on the man standing in front of him. 

“Likho, are you fine?. Do you need a healer?”

“I need to be alone...”

Kian doubted for a moment but closed the door and sat in a crate beside Likho's bed. The room was small, and it was easy to perceive it as a cell. Why the hell Likho had decided to stay there?.

The Dolmari threatening eye was fixed on him, but no words were uttered. The tension of the moment slowly diluted as it did that yellow in Likho's eye. After a couple of minutes, his breathing returned to its usual pace. Only then he could notice that Likho's arms had long marks all over them. Had he tried to strip it off?

Finally, when his muscles relaxed, Likho changed his compressed position to a more comfortable one, resting his back against the wall, breathing and swallowing while looking at the ceiling.

It was more than memory exalted by all the atrocities he had seen in Ge'en, it was that feeling crawling under his skin, never giving up, never giving him a moment to rest. It was also all the memories of his father and his mother, repeated in different versions in all those survivors of the hell.   
The thirst, for first time in three days, made his throat sore. He did not expect the return to mark him so hard, but it did it. It was impossible to avoid the comparison of this returning with the one he did , years ago, barely alive. The pain in every inch of his body, and mainly in his joints, was as fresh as if it were yesterday. His mind played with him; in middle of old painful memories, he felt he was going to return to April in the Enclave. It would not be only April who was waiting for him with a small frown of disapproval, it would be Bachim waiting for him to simply give him a smirk, and all those Zhidlings clapping in excitement for his teacher's return. But the illusion faded as soon as he remembered his body dying, feverish, beside the lifeless body of his comrade, ready to be used as a meat shield if needed. Only then he could realise he was not returning to that past place but a similar one, half empty due to the losses, ready to turn into a battlefield that would provide more and more loss. It would never ended.  
Returning back was harder. 

Out of the blue, Likho's frown deepened, too angry with himself, with the strange relaxing sensation that only that fucking Azadi presence had on him. The damned human was looking at the ground most of the time, giving subtle glimpses at him, with a bottle of water and a piece of bread in his hands. 

He swallowed loudly, and Kian lifted the bottle in the air, shaking it. Likho averted his eye, ashamed for a moment, and then, looked again at him and extended his hand.

Kian sat in the edge of Likho's bed and gave him the bottle. The Dolmari drank. After a moment, Likho rubbed his face and ended in his eye. That weird feeling of something small annoying it had been persistent, however, he could not remember when it had started. Maybe he was going to lose that eye as well. He put aside the thought.

“Bip's parent are doing well. They are almost recovered. His mother is quite an expert in potions. Maybe I should ask her to prepare you one to be more relaxed during this trip... if you want to.”

That voice, those words, their meaning. Likho looked at him, tortured by the gentle caress lasting in his lips. That man was gong to kill him. “I'm fine.”

“Yeah, clearly.” Kian said smirking at him.

Likho sighed and sat at the edge of the bed, beside Kian. He looked at the bread in his hands, and immediately, the man gave it to him without even looking him in the eye. He bit the bread, feeling that he was eating part of himself, part of what was still Dolmari. Trying to get rid of the pressure in his chest, he looked at Kian. Something inside him told him not to, but he did it anyway. The Azadi looked him back.

“Why did you come here?” Likho said after swallowing the bread.

“I didn't see you around in several days.”

“I guess you were more than glad at the thought that could be free of me...”

“You were wrong.” Kian said drily, looking intensively at the Dolmari. “I was missing your... charming manners”. Likho chuckled, but could not stop the eye contact.

The longer they kept looking at each other, the deeper the abyss in front of him. It was hard to decide what action to take; anything would lead to the unavoidable fall.

“Stop this...” Likho whispered, his voice wavering. 

Kian tilted his head just a bit, sincerely not understanding the plea.“ What do you mean?” 

Likho tried to said something, but only a sigh mixed with a grunt came out from his lips. He was an Azadi, a fucking Azadi. The fucking Azadi that had killed his father, when he was only a child. He had to remember. He was not going to be Palevan.

But the idea of an in-coming war, with high chance of dying before earning anything stroke his mind, and he almost could listen April.  _Do you always understand why you are doing things you don't want to?_ .  He remained there, containing the beast, grabbing it, restraining it from taking his skin, but April was there as well, in his mind, her voice resounding over and over. 

He remembered the strange kisses shared with her in those days, its sensation still present in his lips, as an ever-lasting shadow. He was longing for such proximity, for a deeper intimacy, even. The man in front of him was so different to the one in his past that he could not restrain it any longer. He swallowed.

_Silly Likho. How long would it take for you to realise?_

And he just let it go. He put the bottle in the floor and devoured Kian's lips while pushing him against the mattress, straddling over him. With a hand on Kian's chest, he kept pushing away the man and pulling him into a deep kiss. His tongue was wild, devouring every breathe from the man to suffocate him, to make him faint in a vain attempt to, maybe, stop this with such an excuse. But Kian was far beyond passing out. With resolved arms, he wrapped Likho's back, exploring from his hips to his nape. The kiss was turning hotter and demanded deeper contact.

Without breaking the contact, Kian released Likho hair, and its fresh smell surrounded him making the kiss headier, caressing and tickling his face. Slowly, he unfasten Likho's several belts, and without any resistance, both of them ended naked, pressing their bodies, caressing their scars, barely taking air. Although the big Dolmari was over him, Kian could ran his fingers through the man's body, noticing two deep scars in his hips. They felt as if dagger would have been digging in it, trying to damage the union of the bones. Alrik's manual indeed. He broke the kiss and hugged the Dolmari, inviting him to put all his weight on his body, caressing his soft hair, while their breathes returned to their usual pace.   
Likho tossed all his hair to a side and lifted a bit to look at the man. Grabbing his forearms, pushing them against the bed, kissed Kian's neck and chest, leaving in some parts long marks of an excessive pressure of his canines dragged along the skin. There was something so deliciously twisted in the thought of his teeth penetrating that exposed neck. But Likho only played with the thought and started to rub their groins.

Kian gasped at the movement, slowly increasing his groans as the Dolmari was taking control all over his body. He could not deny the pleasure he always had for being under big men. Enjoying the contact, he lifted his legs just a bit, to tangle them with Likho's while he looked for his lips. He managed to get his arms free once again, and tangled them around Likho's neck and hair as he kept repeating his name in whispers and moans. The back and forth of their bodies, finding the pleasure in the mere rubbing of their groins, in the gentle deep kisses, in the caress on their scarred bodies, brought them the peak point of satisfaction while the humidity in their abdomens extended.

None of them broke the distance after the final point. Instead, they remained there, lazily caressing their arms, backs and faces, kissing softly, playing with their tired bodies. It was that sort of tenderness hard to find in their lives, hard to accept in themselves.

Once recovered, Likho turned over in the bed, and looked at the ceiling, but Kian gave him no time to lost himself in thoughts. He lifted and kissed him long and deep while the Dolmari cupped his cheek, feeling those Azadi hands wrapping his hips without feeling any kind of rejection. Oh, April had been right for so long.

Kian rested his head burring his face in Likho's neck, delighted by the intense smell of forest, and taken by the exhaustion, fall asleep caressing the Dolmari's body as long as his consciousness lasted.

Far beyond tranquillity, Likho's eye was fixated on the ceiling, only now recognizing what he had done. The lust that had dazzled his mind for a long moment, was now gone, and the realization of having shared his body with another man, with an Azadi, with this particular Azadi, fell over him like a bucket of cold water.

His skin had been lost forever. The last remains of a true Dolmari had been wasted for a moment of pleasure, for a moment of weakness before a world too dark to bear.

Now, how could he think of himself different than Palevan?. That traitor and him were alike; lost souls craving for caresses, for gentle and intense pleasure, for a deep contact that could make them moan Azadi's names forgetting of everything else, of their traditions, of their people, of their rules.

He sighed, more tortured than ever. He finally could understand why a Dolmari could betray his own people; why one of his people could share willingly an Azadi bed.

Traitor. Creature of pleasures. Lie of a Dolmari.

The images fell one by one in his mind, faces of long dead Dolmari, surrounding that bed while asking for justice. All the children left to die in the cleansing patrols led by those men that were like the one he had just slept with. All those souls, restless, whose existence had been only pain and suffering under the Sadir were looking at him with resentment. All those dead, what for?. In the end, he had ended moaning an Azadi name while being taken by the pleasure of his body. There was nothing in him that felt Dolmari anymore.

The creature was him. Finally, it had eaten his soul forever.

He prayed to Amada, while feeling Kian's weight on him, breathing in his neck completely absent of the living hell his mind had turned into. He prayed for her to guide him, to help him to fight that creature, to allow him to recover his skin. But he only could think in the image of Amada crying while looking at him, disappointed. She had been witness how one of her children decided to be lost forever, betraying her.

And Likho could not restrain his despair as tears ran through his cheeks. What he had done?.

He had set free the  _ga'andar_ , the beast. Now it was impossible to pull it inside, hide it again. 

But there was another truth more difficult to endure, more horrific than the twisted sin already tasted: it was the certainty that even after having lost his skin, nothing had truly changed in him. And that was more terrifying than anything.

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, any suggestion or correction will be appreciated.
> 
> Current mood of the fic: Kannon?. Could you spell it?.

When Kian awoke, he touched the bed. It was empty but the strange feeling he used to have after wild nights was there.

He still could feel the bitter taste in his mouth, like those mornings in his teenage, when a random soldier chose his bed for release their tension. At first was not big deal, but over the years, despite being a pleasure both way, it started to have a bitter taste. Maybe he wanted more than just panting with a nameless body.

He turned over and rubbed his face, smelling that intense forest-like scent in his hands. The revelation was sudden, and he sat in the bed, looking around. It had not been a mere dream.

In the other extreme of the bed, he found the Dolmari, still naked, a bit stooped; his loosen hair was falling all over his profile, hiding his face. It was a curtain of white strands that separated them both. 

The situation was not completely clear for Kian. Was the Dolmari waiting some kind of permission to leave? Was it the preamble of a ferocious attack?. To his imagination, Likho looked like a wild animal, that tamed through a terrific process, had learnt to wait for permission even though deep inside him there was a consuming rage, awaiting to be set free like a volcano.

“There you are.” Kian said, lazily, waiting an answer that did not come. “I thought you had left already.”

“I don't do that.”

“Uh?” the attempt to find a playful tone failed; the atmosphere was too dark for silly jokes. He only could listen that hoarse voice, but that man's face was completely denied to him. 

“I do not leave who I... slept with.” Likho's voice trembled while Kian's concern intensified, especially for that curtain of hair that was increasing the distance between them. “I don't like to... use people, and leave...” and after a second, he added quickly, “not for this.”

“Uh, Likho?”. 

The man put his palms in front of himself, observing them, “ I'm not… so vile. Am I?. Maybe… I am. Such a disgusting beast...now I'm a creature. Finally.”

“Are.. are you fine, Likho?”. 

The Dolmari only shook his head, slowly. His white strands of hair moved softly. Now Kian was extremely concerned. He moved closer to Likho and sat aside him, sharing the edge of the bed. Somehow it felt as if both were resting in a cliff, looking down into the abyss.

“I've never been with... Not like this. My skin...” Likho ran his fingers along his bare arms, nailing it. Now, they were more scratched than the previous day. 

He was sick of thinking how easily he let his clothes off, without any resistance; the way he moaned that name while their bare skins rubbed one another. From all the lovers he had since April, why this one had to be the one that made him give up his Dolmari nature?. It had to be an Azadi, always finding new ways to break his people's life.

Kian frowned, unsure to understand the meaning of the Dolmari's words. The experience had been different from what he was accustomed, but it had been better than all those in their youth. He even had enjoyed to kiss, something he had never done before. However, saying that was not going to be of any use. He kept wondering silently, until that conversation, with a drunken Likho weeks ago, brought him the answer. 

The  _Ga'andaar._

He reached Likho, wrapping his own hips with the blankets to avoid an unnecessary exposure that could affect Likho's sensitivity in that moment. “Likho... has this something to do with-”, but his words were interrupted.

“I've told you... I've told you to stop this.” 

Kian squinted at him, confused. If Likho wanted to stop anything, he only had to say it. In fact it had been the Dolmari who simply had overran him. Of course Kian had no complaints about it. “You... what?...” 

“I know.” Likho's voice waved. “I know.” he repeated, remembering the pleasure, the skin friction, the soft moans that rubbing their bodies had pulled out from him. He shook his head slowly, repeatedly. _No. No. No_. He had enjoyed too much for what it was. “I don't know...” He placed his elbows on his kneels and hid his face in his hands, or at least, Kian imagined him so. That long curtain of white hair was an immense distance between them. “I've told you I don't know how to deal with this. I've told you I've never... Merhdiv was not like this...I've never... never… My skin. I lost the little I had.”

Kian put his hand on Likho's back, but the Dolmari shrank avoiding the touch. Uncomfortable, Kian simply remained by his side. “You said that being part of the Resistance was liberating. I can't see that.”

Likho did not answer. He stayed there, silent, ruminating on his bitterness, regretting the pleasure, unable to fix himself, broken beyond repair.

Putting his weight on his hands, Kian leant back and extended his bare legs in the ground, crossing his ankles. He sighed, and his head fall back, looking at the ceiling. He never thought that this travel to Ge'en would put Likho in such state to not care about the displaying of his weakness so openly. He observed Likho's back. He could not imagine the level of devastation that man was dealing with. It was hard to figure out what to offer to help the tormented Dolmari, especially with something that had always been so natural to him. 

Kian sighed. Something had bonded them before. He had to begin from that point on.  “ I can't imagine what's crossing your mind, Likho. I was raised in Sadir, and as I told you, I never felt shame for being who I am. I'm ashamed of my mistakes and my decisions, I regret many things, sure... but... for the way I was born?. No. It's not like you can change your nature. And that goes for your Dolmari nature as well as the way you love.”

_Love_ . 

_Love_ in middle of an endless war.  _Love_ in middle of a life intersected by endless losses. What was that?. Likho chuckled. “Don't be cocky. I don't... love you. This is not a way of loving”

“Well, how do you want to name it?”

“Fuck off.” he whispered.

“The way you fuck?, well...”

Annoyed, Likho looked at him, frowning. “No, fool.”

It had been the best excuse. For first time in the morning, Likho looked at him. They remained there, silent, keeping the sad eye contact. 

Kian could only admire how sublime that man looked like in that moment. His messy hair, falling down to his shoulders, made a beautiful contrast with his scarred blue skin. All his body had many lightened lines and patches which had been wounds once; deep scars in each joint done by procedures that Kian well knew. His body was an irregular and conflicted map that, ironically, was a reflection of his owner's mind. Long time enough living, getting scarred, suffering.

He approached Likho slowly and arranged that white hair behind his ear. Likho closed his eye, remembering the way April used to do the same gesture, wondering why that memory kept coming and going in his mind when the man at his front had nothing to do with her. Was Kian similar to April, or it was his tired mind that was decoding the similarity because the  _beast_ inside him fancied the Azadi?.

“Likho... you are not a monster for this.” Kian observed the tired red eye of the Dolmari, and caressed Likho's jaw after arranging his hair. The man was the embodiment of sad tiredness, of the stubborn idyllic task of keeping his existence going after every blow, of the endurance that had lasted for too long. He was also a man, a mortal whose limits had been surpassed time ago, walking a rocky path while collapsing at each step. “Trust me in this, one more time, Likho. Would you?.”

Likho blinked, his face contracted in pain, surrendered, and buried his face in Kian's shoulder accepting the most intimate hug he had ever felt in those last years. Nobody, but April, had embraced him like that.

He certainly was not a person anymore.  _Only a tamed beast._

* * *

 

The ships reached far away North of Marcuria, where the fishing village had been silent and abandoned for years. Quickly, the Magicals inhabited every corner of the town and put in order the whole place. The farmers, in less than a month, had cultivated vast extensions of lands and thanks to magic, in a couple of days, they could finally eat tasty fresh food. Outside the town, the military groups built several watchers posts and trained around them. If any danger would threat them from the outside, it had to pass through them first. The most powerful Magicals surrounded each watcher post with magical wards, forming a broad ring all around the village in order to have previous warnings before spotting a potential enemy.

Inside the village, Magicals not only developed a precarious market, but also established several learning places to teach to their comrades the arts of magic, explosives, the preparation of basic potions, and a rough engineering. The place once abandoned to its rotten fate was now full of life and hope, eager to craft a free destiny by themselves.

Likho was assigned as the main advisor of the militia, giving them instructions for a better training and several tactical strategies. By own decision, Kian took a less prominent role, staying as a mere soldier, sometimes used as a teacher for training or as he was meant to be in the first place, a symbol to increase morale to those who wanted to believe in Azadi's self-criticism. In other words, to be an example of the statement that some Azadi could change their mind once they were awoken. To Likho's viewpoint, that was a half lie, but if it was useful for the Resistance, he would not complain as long as it kept people encouraged in the fight. The truth be told, Kian as a symbol was mostly useful for human rebels, not much for magicals who looked at him with mistrust.

As soon as they finished the last reunions, and the final orders were given, Likho and Kian left the village through the tunnels. There was no time for resting. A couple of men, former workers of the Mole, guided them through the whole maze until they reached the room where Kian met the Mole for the first time. There, the group of men left them to go into Marcuria and returned to the village, assuring that once a week a messenger would pass through the tunnels and connect the Enclave with the new settlement sharing news both ways.

 

Likho and Kian breathed deeply when they finally left the Mole's home, now abandoned. It was a pleasure for their lungs to feel the fresh air of the Docks. They looked at Shady Quay before taking the boat, appreciating the colours of the sky.

Likho prepared the boat while Kian kept looking at the horizon, a bit lost.   
With oars in his hands, Likho spoke; “Something is wrong?” He said, looking aside. Since they left the Cloudship, Likho could not look at him in the eye.

Kian observed the big tower, which top was far beyond the line of sight, penetrating the clouds up in the sky. “I don't know. I told Hami to come back Sadir. I'm sure he didn't do it.”

“So?”

“He had to come back here, to inform everyone. The streets should be full of soldiers, the whole city should be… different.”

A nervous feeling pressed Likho's throat. “Let's go. We need to talk with Shepherd.”

Kian sat in front of Likho and observed him to row. Despite the constant elusive behaviour, Kian enjoyed the view silently. That man was not easy to deal with. Oh, by the Goddess, if he knew about it. But over time, along the battles, in that pulling and pushing of their personalities, something dug deeply and unconsciously. However, there was no satisfaction in it, it was not the pleasant realization of finding out something that had been under the rug for long time. On the contrary, the truth was painful, because there were heavy weights on his shoulder. What a long path. From hating Magicals, mistrust them all, to defend their cause and share a bed with one of them. Five years ago he would not have believed it. 

“Stop staring at me.”

Kian blinked. The man had stopped his thoughts with that husky, deep voice, but the Dolmari never looked at him. 

The silence filing the air was suddenly broke by a flapping sound. A black bird flew in circles descending to the boat, until its small talons reached the boat's border. The creature looked up down at Kian, while tilting its head. “You must be Kian, right?”.

Shocked, the man looked at the bird, and then, at the Dolmari, who had stopped rowing. Likho kept avoiding the eye contact, so he focused on the bird. The animal was unmistakable. “The Crow.” Likho said in a deep, monotonous and even irascible voice. 

The bird turned its tiny head at the big man, “Ugh. I've never heard someone calling me that way. Do you work in the graveyard?”. Crow tilted several times his head, squinting. That man was familiar to him, somehow. “Mn... I think I got you. You were Crey, right?. That Dolmari that gave me honey in wint-, no wait. You are Rendul. Oh, man, how have you been?” Likho shook his head, losing his patience slowly.

"Delkram!, you left your hair longer! but what happened with your eye, man. You were always such a good man-" 

Likho frowned deeply annoyed.

“Do you know him?” Kian asked taking the oars in his own hands and starting to row.

The Dolmari did not look at him, he kept using the bird as an excuse to avoid him, “Yes. He was April's critter.”

“Critter!?. Me!?. My majestic feathers are not part of any critter heritage, you big blue critter. Watch your mouth.” Crow agitated his wings. “Now I remember that horrible personality of yours. You were April's fuckbuddy. It seems that you need something that you weren't taking for a long time.”

“Fuckbuddy?”, Likho's jaw tensed. He tried to slap the bird, but Crow was faster enough to dodge it. Or perhaps it had never been Likho's true intention to hit the bird. Either way, he kept threatening the bird, “You'd better shut your beak up, or you'll need a new one.”

Crow flew in circles several times until resting in the boat's edge once again, this time closer to Kian.

“I'm Kian Alvane. What's it with that?” the man said resting his arms in the oars. 

“Good to see at least one of you have manners. I'm going to be your sidekick from now on”.

Kian frowned, “Are you going to kick my side? What that even means?”

The bird shrugged with his little wings. “Who knows. I was told that. Now, you are going to be delighted by my charm as a sidekick.”

Likho grunted, “Ugh, the fucking Balance”. He looked far away, spotting immediately the jetty that was at the entrance of their hideout. However, despite the distance, some strange shadow bothered him. A small dark protuberance was blurry on the pier's ground. Frowned, Likho took the oars and finished the work that Kian was not going to end as long as he kept talking nonsense with the silly bird. 

“No...” Likho's voice dragged Kian attention and looked at the Dolmari first, frost in his place while looking at the entrance. Then, he followed that direction and found Jakai's body.

Immediately they approached the pier, and jumped off from the boat. Likho squatted aside the body, and shook his head when he touched the cold neck of the man. Squinting, he picked a coin from a bunch that were spread around the body and looked at Kian. Both of them ran upstairs, leaving Crow confused in the boat.

And there it was when they saw everything that had been left. The table destroyed, the Rebels' blood splattered everywhere, mutilated bodies and broken weapons were all around. Likho had to leant against a wall, he hardly could walk when he spotted Shepherd's body. He ran a hand through his hair, hit for the countless of memories and images he had seen in his life, repeating the same massacre over and over. Death, chaos, slaughter. Loss. Loss that never ended.

Kian squatted aside Shepherd and touched her hard and cold hand. He closed her jaw and looked tortured at Likho who was horrified. Once he recovered his legs strength, Likho started to look around from a side to another, desperately, as a wild animal looking for his offspring. 

“Enu? ENU!, Where are you! Enu!” 

Some steps coming from the corridors forced them to draw their weapons, tensing all their nerves despite the shock. Anna appeared followed by a small group of Rebels. She smiled and ran to hug Kian. 

“You are alive! Thanks Goodness!” she cupped Kian's face with her hands, and tried to kiss him, but he took her wrists and put some distance. 

“What happened here? Who survived?”

Likho's relentless eye was fixated in her. Something was odd, all his body was screaming that. “Where is Enu.” he demanded.

“She is with the rest in that room. We have no healer...”

“Where is Na'ane?” Kian asked at Anna immediately.

“Yeah, well. I was going to say about it. Kian, tell these idiots to open her cell door to heal the few who still have a chance. They didn't do it because they said it was Shepherd's last order.”

“What?” Likho's angry voice resounded as he looked at the rest of the rebels, “You had your fellows dying and you didn't force the healer to help them?”

“Likho...” Kian touched the Dolmari arm, trying to contain the volcano of anger. “Anna, open the cell. Na'ane is not going to escape. Tell her to heal everyone.”

Likho released himself from the gentle grasp and walked into the room leaving the humans behind. Many agonizing rebels were there, moaning in pain, blood tingeing their fur or skin, smelling like death.

He found a blanket where Enu was unconscious, soaked in her own blood. With trembling hands, he caressed her face, waiting in vain for those big eyes to open soon. Being so focused on the Zhid, Likho did not realise that after some minutes Na'ane was beside him, checking Enu's state and giving her energy.

Likho only could remain there, blaming himself for leaving, for not having powers to heal, for things taking this course.

Likho took off his wrist protectors and extending his bare scarred wrist to the Zhidmari, he said, “If you need blood, I can...” 

She looked at the deep scratches all over his arms, and shook her head gently, “ No need. Not yet. Blood magic is not safe. It requires too much, and we don't even know-”

“Do not let her die. Please...”. His voice waved.

“Believe me, Likho. I'll do everything to help these people. I made mistakes. My intention was never to betray. That desire will never change. You need to go. Your presence here is unbalancing my powers.”

He frowned but he understood. He was still too angry with her.

When he returned to the main room, he could see Kian and Anna's back, both of them still talking.

“You did what? Anna! How could you-” 

Likho's muscles tensed all at once.

“I thought it was the right decision. I can't believe she... she couldn't talk to Vanom. She doesn't trust in him.”

“But she sent Hami to Ge'en. What for? Hami was not so surprised of the horrors of the Island. He knew it. And I guess Utana too. Anna, I was trusting only in you...”

“I don't know. I thought she would help us, that's why I told her everything-”

Anna could not finish her sentence when she felt a man jumping on her. She dodged, but the Dolmari grabbed part of her clothes, making her fall into the ground. However, instead of showing surrender, she kicked Likho's kneel and made him half fall. That moment was enough to climb over him, surround his neck with her legs and prepare herself for the fatal movement. Knowing the deadly technique, Kian jumped behind her, pushing with his legs Likho's back while pulling Anna's hips. The three of them fell in the ground and only then, some rebels appeared to retain the redhead while they left Kian to control the Dolmari alone.

“You, fucked up angry man!, what were you going to do to me!? I told you that I was going to rip your head off if you touch me again.”

“Betrayer! You told them our location! Look at the dead!”. Likho's eye was brightly yellow. His mind was too focused on Anna to perceive Kian wrapping him and pushing him with his whole body. Likho was applying an unstoppable pressure, as a wild animal desperate to slaughter its enemy. 

“I don't even know if Utana said something. It's just a possibility. Just don't-”

“I'm going to skin you alive-” Likho stepped forward, realising only then that Kian had been at his front all the time, grabbing his back, containing him, stopping him. Likho blinked horrified by the strange familiarity that he had earned with Kian in such a short time to not realise he was against his body, so close, so tight. 

“Calm down, Likho. She tried to help” Kian whispered.

“Help? Shepherd being there is her help...” He pointed at the Samare's corpse.

Anna crossed her arms and spoke, “Listen to me. I've gone to Utana, it's true. I just wanted to avoid a bloodshed."

"I can see that." Likho hissed, glaring at her.

"I don't want Kian to be killed just because he wants to save your people's angry asses. Utana was suspecting of Vanom already, as well as Sahya. By telling her where you two were going, I was expecting she would tell Hami to gather his soldiers and go to Ge'en, so we could have less soldiers in our streets and Rebels would be more relaxed. It worked. There were few guards these days. I don't know if somehow, that information was leaked later... I found that tiny man downstairs, with coins around him. That looks suspicious to me. Maybe the leak didn't come from my mouth. So, don't blame me before having evidence, you angry big fool.”

“You could have put those coins around him, for all what I know”.

“Keep lying to you. You know I'm right.” She said, and snapped her fingers.

Likho's frown deepened and with a single pushing movement, he released himself from Kian's grasp and left the place going down through the stairs. Kian sighed, relaxed for a moment. Those two were going to kill each other.

He looked at Shepherd's body once again and then at Anna. “Would you help with the bodies? They need a proper bury”

“We should leave this place. We don't know if Vanom's men will come again to check...”

“I won't let these people be rotten like rats, Anna.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever, don't count on me. I've had enough.”

She was going to leave, when Kian touched her arm and stopped her. He looked her into the eye as she smiled shyly.

“Anna... is it true?. Did you betray, at least, a bit of our trust?”

Her smile disappeared. “Our?. So, now you are one of them?”

“No. But I'm on this side.”

“Kian.. I won't be dragged into your madness. You saved the boy, and for what I know, more than just the boy. Magicals outside the main city, with magical resources and weapons. You did more than any of them could have imagined. It's time for you to leave.” Kian squinted at her. “Don't trust them.”

“How do you know all that?”

“I know many things, Kian. And that's why I'm telling you to leave. It's time. You did fine. Go back to your life.”

“This is my life now. And we did not take Marcuria yet.”

Anna laughed. “Are you … are you serious?. Do you want to take Marcuria? What for?”

“To end this. Once and for all.”

She kept chuckling a bit longer, "Oh, wait. And you will be the fancy leader of the new nation that will come up?. Do you think they will accept another Azadi as an emperor? How much time will take you to start abusing of your power?"

"That won't happen."

“Old story.” She chuckled and looked aside, as if she were remembering History itself, "Why are you so sure?. How much time will take for _them_ to perceive you as one who is not like _them_? How much time will take for _them_ to resist you?. Nobody wants to be ruled by nobody, Kian."

"Fair ruling is respected. I'll find the way."

She rolled her eyes once again. “ _Every_ ruler has said that. The whole History is about that.” She shook her head and put a hand on his chest. “Kian. Please. Leave now.”

The silence filled the air as the intensity of their looks increased. He finally spoke squinting in mistrust, “ What's that you clearly know that you are not telling me?”

“I care for you, trust me.” She sighed tortured. “You told me you weren't one of them. You are not a magical, nor a rebel. You are an Azadi. An Azadi questioning your own Goddess' path. Going against each Azadi rule of Sadir. _Each one_.” She looked down at his hips where the sword was pending from his belt.

Kian swallowed hardly and frowned, suddenly concerned by the looming sensation of a tragedy beyond his ken. 

“I know you, Kian Alvane. I know that you have done things that nobody will forgive in Sadir. You are unable to go back to your beloved country, but you also know you would never be part of the Rebels. You are broken. You are not a magical. You do fear magic, even now. And now you realised you fancy...” she stopped her words, and looked down, letting her hand slid down along his chest to finally fall by her body's side. “I'm leaving Marcuria.” she said raising her eyes “I won't come back. If you... You can come with me. We can live a life of wonders, without a place where to settle down. We can get tired of new lands and dangers-”

Kian frowned and his breathing was heavy. He could see despair and fear through Anna. “What's the terrible thing that's coming?”

Anna compressed her voice. “Kian. Please, come with me.”

The evasive behaviour made him fear even more. “I've made my decision. I will stay here, helping these people. If you want to give me a last help before leaving... I would appreciate it, Anna.”

“You are always coercing me...” she said.

He snorted. “At least I'm not kissing you without asking”

She looked at him, annoyed. Her tortured face turned into a plain threatening gesture. “I wish you would”. She got closer to him and looked at his lips. She could perceive an unusual smell around him, like a scent of forest that forced her to take distance immediately, looking aside disappointed. “The prophet will come in a couple of weeks. He will release the power of the tower. I'm asking you this for the last time, Kian. Come with me...”

“How could you know-” Suddenly, a frantic cawing crossed the room. Crow flew from the downstairs to some rubble in a corner of the room and looked at Kian, agitated. “Control that blue beast! He almost killed me! He is skinning that body down there, he is mad!. Fucking April, how in the hell she found something interesting in that crazy man!”

Kian ran away to see what was happening with the Dolmari.

Meanwhile, Crow looked at Anna, and tilted his head several times. “I think I know you.”

“No, you don't.” she said and snapped her fingers close to him. 

And from one minute to the next, Crow looked around in a lonely room, with only bodies spread in the floor. He swore he was talking with someone, but it was hard to remember. What was he doing there anyway?

* * *

 

When Kian reached the pier, he saw the Dolmari cutting with accuracy part of the body just to turn his precise gesture into an angry stab. Jakai's body had all the signs of the rigor mortis. Skinning that corpse was going to take a lot of time.

Kian stood beside Likho and remained there, in silence, allowing the Dolmari to notice his presence. Slowly, that failed attempt of skinning stopped, and turned into angry stabbings on Jakai's chest. Likho hit the body repeatedly with his daggers and fists, while bitter tears ran through his cheek.

“It was he...” he said. Kian frowned. “He was the traitor. His throat was slit. The cut was clean, unexpected. And look all these coins. He always was the traitor. I never suspected. Why?. He was the only one finding money in a town whose market had been bogged down in the last months. We... I... thought he was a good merchant. And I didn't see the truth behind that. I DIDN'T!” he yelled, stabbing the daggers in the stiffened chest. Then, he stood up and kicked the body to throw it into the water. “I've been dealing with spies all my fucking life. I've caught the most skilful ones, but human spies.. they are the worst. You never know. You never fucking know in which layer they have the spy.” Likho walked some steps far away and looked at the body floating in the water. “I should have stayed here. I should. But... How I could have done that?. Back then, everything looked like this... April left us, we were fine here, her mission was complicated because she was a foolish stubborn shit, reckless like you... and she died.” Likho's voice broke. “She died because I was not there, for her. And now Enu... I wasn't not here for her...” Likho wiped out his tears with the back of his hand. “It's always like this. It's always to lose everyone, everything. My father, my mother, my land, my family, my people, my freedom, my soul, my skin.... I'm tired.. I'm so fucking tired of this shit.” Suddenly, he sheathed his daggers and walked with the intention to jump into the boat.

Kian intervened his path with his body. “Where are you going?”

“To do what I had to have done years ago. I will kill Vanom, and all his fucked up Azadi, with that priest of yours included-”

Kian grabbed Likho's shoulders, stopping his impetus. “Likho, stop... You are going to get killed, only that.”

“Who cares!?. What do you want me to do!?” He shouted, pushing violently Kian who almost fell into the water. Regretting it immediately, ashamed, Likho looked aside. “I wanted Enu outside of this. I can't stand for this. Every time I see these slaughters, I remember each of all the massacres I've lived. You can never get used to these. It wears you out. I'm tired of loss, Kian. I just want peace for all my people. They deserve it. Their only sin is to exist...” Self-conscious of his contracted face, very unlike of him, Likho hid it with his hands and pretended to rub it. 

“I know this was a low blow. I can't believe we lost Shepherd's leadership.”

Both of them looked down, at the rotten wooden planks of the pier, and the silence remained as a mourning gesture. Kian put his hand on Likho's back.

“It's all my fault. I had to stay here, to defend them.” Likho ran both hands through his hair, doing a mess of dried blood among his strands.

“Maybe you would have died.”

“What matters now?. One less Dolmari into the blacklist. At least I was going to be sure my meat won't end in someone's soup.” Likho closed his eye tight. “I just want this to end. At any cost. I'm so tired, Kian. So tired. I can't resist anymore. All what I've done, all the sacrifices we have been doing all this fucking time… all that, wasted.”

Likho looked again at the floating body, and his vision turned blurry by the tears.

Slowly, Kian hugged Likho who did not put any resistance and returned the embrace. Despite the resentment there was the trust that, somehow, he could still rely on that Azadi, ironically. Or maybe it was simply his death wish.

Although there was relief in the contact, the moment was tinged by the bitter taste of the past.

“We need to rest. To gather strength. By going Ge'en, we earned... _you_ earned several magical troops. We need to focus on to give them supplies of food and medicines. Once they are stronger, we can push the Azadi.” Kian whispered into Likho's ear.

Likho broke apart and wiped once again his eye, returning to his usual self after that small weak moment. He looked at him in disbelief. “And you think all my people will be able to fight Vanom's and Hami's troops? Of course they don't lack of will, but they are not fighters.”

“I think we need a plan. I'm the Azadi, I know how they think strategy from the inside. You are the leader your people needs-”

“I'm not a leader anymore, I've told you-”

“I don't care.” Likho frowned aggressively, “This is not about what we want or not. This is how things are. And you were always right... Resistance led by an Azadi?, that's wrong from the very beginning. People respect you, and fear you. You are more suitable for that role. You have survived many blows, many wounds. Me as a leader will only break magicals into several dissident groups, weakening the Resistance. Let's recover first, all of us, and then we are going to prepare the biggest counter-attack that Vanom and all of them could never imagined. We are going to repel the invaders.”

Somehow, that silly speech made Likho smile slightly. It was so appealing, and so ironic. “ So, you were serious when you told that to Hami?”

“I'm always serious, Likho. Never doubt that”.

Likho blinked and looked at the ceiling. The magical variation had been strong enough to be perceived by him. Something that had gathered enough power was used all at once, and now there was a void in that space; a void which waves rippled against his own magical nature. He sighed. “Very well. Let's do what you say, Alvane. Meanwhile, I'll help Na'ane.”

Kian squinted. “What?”

“Na'ane is exhausted up there. And I want her to save Enu.”

“Do you have magic?, what does it do?” 

Likho sighed, “Ironically, it heals”. He said and walked upstairs.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, any suggestion or correction will be appreciated.  
> Current mood of the fic: Canon?. Nope. No, I don't know her.

Na'ane took a rest in a wrecked chair outside the room while Likho remained aside Enu's blanket. His slitted wrist emanated a long cord of blood glittering in a dark crimson that ran into Enu's arm . It was the magical bridge between his life and Enu's, sharing his poor magic just to keep her alive.

Outside the room of the wounded, Kian approached Na'ane, gave her water and bread he had brought and sat on the ground. He could peer Likho's back through a small portion of the door frame. The man's arm was surrounded by a red glitter that turned dimer while fading into Enu's body.

“So... is Likho a healer?” he asked deeply surprised.

“He is not. He only has a latent, small power in him. But he never trained it. Magic is like our bodies, you need to educate them to make them stronger. The more you use them, the more powerful they turn. However, his magic is weak, especially if it's untrained. It's useful enough for himself, not for others. When he ...” she stopped short her words, drank some water, but she did not continued her explanation. Instead, she looked down.

“What?”

“You know he survived Ge'en, no?. Years ago.” Kian nodded in silence “Soldiers tortured him. The festernig all along his body was... I thought he had the hours counted. But… It was then when I realised about his latent magic. I boosted his natural healing skills, and so far, they worked to him. He survived. After that, we kept relying on him when healers were exhausted, using his blood like you see him now. Through blood magic I can use his latent power, making it a bit stronger to heal others even though he can't do it by himself.”

“But, why he doesn't learn how to use it? Won't his power get weaker without training?”

“Indeed. But, it's not a strong magic anyway. It would requiere for him to spend years of training just to be able to heal low risk wounds. And probably not in a good way. Likho is full of … emotions that annul healing powers".

"What that even means?. Had he never had the life he got, would have he turned into a decent healer?"

"Most likely. His life, the way he sees it, has shaped his powers. Maybe more like _has broken_ his powers. He will never be a strong healer. Magic is a reflection of us, of what we are, of what we become. Our powers are deeply related to our heart and mind. Shepherd is... _was_ always good at bringing things from the darkest side of the world into the lights. She always understood the Balance, and her powers were a reflection of that. She could bring your soul from death itself. She saved you that way. She always saw beyond the reality in front of her.”

Curious, Kian crossed his arms and looked at her intensely, “What about your powers?”

Na'ane smiled bitterly and looked at her hands on her lap. “Mine... I've grew up like most of us, leaving a town to another, surviving a slaughter to see another one. I always wanted to heal the wounded, to ease the pain, to stop the disaster. But I was always afraid of death. I was never brave. I betrayed the resistance, in part, for my own fear. That's true… I know my death will bring more troubles than relief. That's why I did what I've done. I guided you to April.” She ate a bit of bread. “I can heal many, my powers are strong but I'm weak. I will never exhaust myself to heal another. Selfish, I know, but I'm scared of death. It's what I've seen all my life. It's hard to get used to it.”

Kian stood beside her and touched her shoulder, caressing her with a repeating movement of his thumb. “It's understandable.”

She looked at him for a second, but then, fixated her eyes on the healing room. “I can heal bodies, but hardly I can keep their souls in them. In that room, Kian, many will die because that. Without Shepherd's powers, I can't do it. At the end of the day, my powers are useless, like Likho's. My power is just a reflection of who I am, and unfortunately, it's not something you can change through training.”

“Magicals are... quite complex”.

She turned her head to him but her face remained unchanged. “We are people. And people are complex.” she stood up again, drank a bit more of water and looked at Kian. “Enu's latent power is luck. It's a chaotic power. She doesn't have control over it. However, everyone around her is lucky. That's why I believe she will survive, and that's why I kept her in the room with the rest. I need to use every bit of magical powers, except Likho's.” she looked in the distance the room. “He wants me dead deep inside him. He will never forgive me for April. If he is not focused on someone else like now, keep him away from me. I can't bring people's souls from death, but with him around me, I can't even heal them properly.”

“You have my word”, Kian remained there, observing that slouched, tired back of the Dolmari, draining himself to keep the Zhid alive. What that man would have become if fate would have never crossed their paths with so much blood?.

* * *

 

They were heading to the recently settled town on Northern Marcuria. The news that the group that had been sent to explore the Azadi Tower had decided to go there forced them to go to check by themselves. The only thing they knew was that due to the strange movement of soldiers perceived lately, this exploring group decided to avoid Old Town to protect the Enclave. So, their first elusive manoeuvrer was to head to that old fishing village that, surprisingly, they found taken over by Magicals.

The group, the information they could have gathered, and the plans ahead were too important to rely on messengers this time. The meeting was vital to determine the future strategies, and it had to be personal.

They had been walking through the tunnels for almost three hours. Exhaustion was hard to hide, mainly for Likho. Not only the bleeding process had weakened him; both of them had not got a restful night, too wary to sleep properly in the Enclave under the looming threat of a surprise attack at any moment.

 

Likho tripped over due to the irregular surface of the tunnel, but did not fall. He only leant his weight against the wall and breathed slowly.

The suffocating air of the tunnels, the memories of the tortures and his desperate breathing, and his own tiredness for sharing blood and energy for several days to his wounded fellows had weakened his body.

Kian rested his hand on his back and waited beside him. “I can carry you on my back”  
Likho frowned and gave him a deadly look. A grunt emphasized his disapproval.

“It wouldn't be the first time, though” Kian added, just to see the annoyance pronounced on the Dolmari's face.

Kian extended his arm to Likho, to offer his shoulder as point of support, but Likho only kept looking at him in silence. Hesitating at first, he simply began to walk again, leaving Kian behind. They had to return to the Enclave before night.

 

Once they went out the entrance, they found several Magicals wielding their weapons against Kian.

Exhausted, Likho could only lift his hands while trying to breathe without remembering Alrik. “What the fuck is happening now?” he said looking at Zhids, Dolmaris and few Zhidmaris surrounding them.

“It's not meant for you, comrade. It's for the _gh'azi_.” A mature woman with a deep scar on her cheek talked in raspy tone. “Kalem has told us that no human has to be allowed here. We are sick of betrayers.”  
“This man has been fighting alongside us for a long time...”  
“No hard feelings, but we don't want to end like the Enclave. You never know when a _gh'azi_ will turn on you. Is that hard to understand?”

“I know... but...” Likho sighed and looked at Kian, hesitating.  
Moving slowly, Kian took his sword and gave it to Likho. “You can tie my hands if needed. We came here for vital things. Let's not waste time on this.”

The other Magicals seemed to agree with the idea and brought some chains. A young Dolmari man was the responsible of tying Kian, tingeing the whole process with an unnecessary aggressiveness that forced Likho to look aside. For a moment, the young Dolmari had turned into Alrik in his mind.

Once finished, the man gave Likho the extreme of the chain offering with it the responsibility of the human's behaviour. Following the extension of the chain on his trembling hand, Likho locked his eye on the Azadi whose face was expressionless. Neither guilt nor hate was present in those eyes. It was as if Kian would have been in peace with the Balance of the whole situation. Maybe that medallion under his clothes was more serious than whatever Likho had imagined. But that thought did not help. The contrast of the past forced Likho to throw the chain at the ground. His comrades frowned in disapproval.

“Fuck this elgwanshit. When did we start to behave like Azadi?”

A Zhid crossed her arms and stepped forwards. “When we started to have mercy for those who abused us all?”.

“You want to kill the fucker who is ruling our asses on a comfy chair inside the Tower, not this bastard here. This man has been killing more Azadi in the last year that any of you in your entire life. But you think you're now powerful just to tie him a bit tight.”

“Are you defending a _gh'azi_?” A Dolmari man approached Likho with a rised eyebrow, “ You were with me in the Intiqua-aba Resistance. I trust you. But… I have memory. Why one of my people would defend a _gh'azi_?”

The question echoed in Likho's mind. His people would push the situation beyond its limits, beyond what he knows he could not deal with. Was is it a trap?. Or was the result of many years of wariness that made those Magicals to have suspicions about Kian?. Or maybe he was forgetting who Kian was. _A Gh'azi._ He swallowed. “This man is a Rebel. He is on our side, whether we like it or not.”

“Why the Resistance would put their hopes in a g _h'azi_?” the man approached Kian and looked at him. “They look so proud of their own shit. They never kneel.” He kicked the back of Kian's kneels, forcing him to fall on them. “They attacked my home during a raid, five years ago. They raped my child, they tortured my wife, I lost them. They slaved me in that hell called Ge'en. Why one of those shit has to be part of us?” He grabbed Kian's jaw violently and looked at the tattoos on his face “Even worse... an Apostle. These are even worse than the average _gh'azi._ ”

Kian kept looking down, silent, knowing things would escalate quickly.

“Not all of them are the same kind of shit...” Likho said in a calm tone that surprised most of the people surrounded them.

“What's wrong with you?” The Zhid woman looked at him with anger in her eyes. “My town was raided and slaughtered in Apostles' missions. They are all alike”.

“You are not the first one complaining why he is part of us. But he, or many like him, humans, are part of the rebellion. They worked with us before we could ever imagine possible to free Ge'en. This man here had an important role in saving you all.”

“Oh, so we need to kiss his ass just because he feels a bit guilty and now he is playing the good boy game.” A Zhidmari man talked aloud.

“Shit, no. I'm not saying that.” Likho hissed.  
The Dolmari who was still grabbing Kian's jaw observed him in detail. “Without the beard I would say that this fucker raided our base.” The man looked up to Likho “When you were leading in Intiqua. Old, old times”.

Likho rubbed his face. His tiredness was making the situation hard to deal with, especially with the tension around.

The Dolmari man, one of the few that had survived with Likho, chuckled in a terrifying way. From all the murmur around him, Likho could perceive that silly soft laugh and its looming threat froze his blood.

The man spoke smirking, “I wonder why you are so concerned trying to protect a _gh'azi_. Maybe... rumours are true.”

Likho unsheathed his daggers under the terror of any potential extra word that could endanger him, and jumped against the man, almost stabbing him. The only thing that stopped his hands to go straight to the Dolmari's chest was the memory of Palevan. That image of the young Dolmari that had been prey of fear and despair when he saw Delkram and silenced that dangerous mouth forever before the old scholar could even talk. Finally, after so many years, he could understand Palevan's actions in that cold morning in the Sorrow's Throat. Fear was a cruel master whose orders were hard to disobey.

Likho stabbed the daggers on the ground, aside the Dolmari's head. Palevan's image was there for a fraction of a second. With deep rusty voice he said aloud. “ _Dol' am ter alkaem Ma'an dol'in._ ”

All the Dolmari surrounding him looked aside. Immediately, a new group of Magicals approached the scene, spreading the rest of the people. “What's happening here?” an old Zhid said looking at the Dolmari on the ground.

“Nothing. We are just refreshing our warm friendship.” Likho said in a deadpan expression, took his daggers, and helped the man to get up from the ground. “We come from the Enclave, and this group was a bit hostile with the _gh'azi_.” Without looking at him, Likho pointed with one of his daggers to Kian, who was still knelt.

The old Zhid ran his fingers though his hair, observing the human and then Likho. “Yes. Not surprising. I'm from the Tower expedition group sent by Shepherd.” he looked down for a second, then retook the conversation “All the humans that were with us were incarcerated once we put a feet here. I was hoping you could solve that once here.”  
“Me?” Likho raised an eyebrow.

The man chuckled. “If you can trust in a human, I think that means a lot for many of us.”

“Fuck this world. As if I had never been betrayed before.” Likho said helping Kian to get up and giving him the extreme of the chain. “Let's talk with the leaders.”

When Likho passed by the first group of Magicals, a terrible whisper coming from the man he had argued with froze his blood even though he pretended not to heard it.

“I know you lost your skin. It's easy to see it.”

And Likho felt, once again in his life, terror. But this time it was a totally different kind of terror.

 

They went to the central building of the town where most leaders were gathered. At first, they wanted Kian outside the place, but Likho could convince them explaining that, as an Azadi, he would provide a good insight of how his people think about strategy, risks, and plans. He was, after all, a key asset for providing a surprise attack. With wary expressions in their face, they finally allowed the human to pass but still with his hands chained. Likho could only sigh in resignation. Azadi were by far more deadly with their brains than their hands.

During the meeting all the information gathered by the exploration group was shared with details. Home-made maps showed the intricate maze of buildings inside the big wall to reach the Tower, several passwords to make certain doors functional, and a long detailed notebook of guards rotations, security timetables, and relief schedules.

A group of human spies, now most of them incarcerated, had gathered important information about the number of troops, soldiers numbers, and weapons that the Azadi had. They also had found that something related to a Ritual was needed to awake the Tower's whole power.

With Kian's contributions, they developed the first draft of an all-or-nothing plan: several groups of Magicals would agitate the streets, forcing the soldiers to focus on them for a couple of hours while another group would sneak into the building and would plant bombs on the foundations of the Tower. To do that, they would have to face several guards and pass through secret doors. If the plan would take a decent course, they would also be able to take Vanom's head in the process and show it in a pike as a symbol of strength. Azadi would not have any other option than returning to their lands. Marcuria would finally expel them.

The meeting finished with cheerful mood while many claps joined to the end of the last lines of the plan. So much anticipation to the joy of a potential victory did not improved Likho's morale. Like him, the Magicals who survived more battles did not fall for the charm of the enthusiasm; they were old enough to understand that plans were never as smooth as they sounded in meetings, and after all, war would always take its victims in both sides. The highest amount on the weaker side.

The plans gave them some weeks off ahead, to prepare weapons, to polish the details, to memorize the maps. They were going to do their _last sacrifice_ in this battle, even though Likho was deeply sceptical about it. He had lived long enough to know the consequences of the _last_ sacrifices: thousands of Magicals dead, and the _last sacrifice_ used to turn out to be, actually, in the _penultimate_ sacrifice. There was always more things to sacrifice. Over and over.

* * *

 

Utana was knelt before the Altar, murmuring in a fast chant the words of the Victory. Footsteps stopped by her side, before the Goddess' statue. Only when the praying was drown in a sombre silence, the woman looked at her side and saw the unmistakable black cloak.

“Some things are taking an odd course”. The deep, hoarse voice echoed in the chamber.

“I know. My apologies. I did what you told me. I've given her free will if she told me everything. And she did it, but she loves my dear Kian. She always had eyes for him. I swear she will find a way to put Kian aside of this.”

“So far I've seen through the messenger’s eyes, she has betrayed us, Utana. And she did not get rid of the Apostle.”

“Of course she would never kill him. Her heart is too soft with my Kian. But she must have convinced him to follow her.”

The black figure shook his head slowly. “I've seen through the messenger’s eyes, and it was not the case."

Utana stood up and unfolded her hands. She looked at the small window up on the wall, and a black bird appeared.

"He didn't follow her." the bird said in a monotonous tone.

The prophet sighed in annoyance and snapped his fingers in the air, making the bird to fall lifeless to the ground before Utana's feet. "I've told you so. I've given a chance to your kids. But the Goddess can't wait any longer. If the Apostle meddles in our plans, I will kill him."

The old lady closed her eyes and prayed in silence once more time. "So be it. The tower will be ready soon. Our Lady has her own rules in her Reign."

* * *

 

After three days of intense healing, Enu opened her heavy eyes and could focus them, for a brief moment, on a blue, tired man. She was too exhausted for talking, so the only thing she did was to draw a sad smile on her face. By her side, linked through the magical bridge between their wrists, Likho squezed her weak hand, returning her gesture with a preoccupied face but a gentle, soft voice, “Everything is fine, Enu. Focus on healing yourself. Nothing more.”

She closed her eyes once more and fall asleep while those words kept repeating in her mind with the deep, commanding voice of the Dolmari.

 

A day after, she finally could fully awake and sit on her blanket. More conscious of her environment, she looked around the big room. Many were still sleeping or softly moaning, victims of nightmares and pain. In the corners of the room there were some empty blankets as a symbol of the recently deceases. The room had a heavy depressing air that was hard to deal with even for her.

She tried to move her legs, but the piercing pain along them made her freeze on the spot. She looked under the blankets and saw bloody bandages around her legs. The memory was still fresh. Angry by her defying attitude, a group of Azadi that had appeared from nowhere, surrounded her and beat her to make her fall, and once on the ground, they cowardly kicked her to the point of breaking her legs. She touched her face and arms. Even though they hurt, nothing felt as desfigurated or broken as her legs. It was the bright side, she kept telling herself not completely convinced.

“Enu, are you awake. Are you fine?”

She looked around with some difficulty. The voice was coming from her back. However, it was easy for her to realise the owner, and thanked the Balance for that voice that dragged her outside those recent memories. Steps went closer, until she could perceive the man sitting on the ground beside her.

“I had better days, you know?. But at least I'm alive, I think that counts.” she looked the other blankets, as more memories came to her mind, slowly. The Azadi surrounding Shepherd, her energy blasting against the soldiers, the clanging swords. “Tell me that more people than these here survived ”

Kian touched her shoulder in silence. She sighed and laid again on her blanket, too uncomfortable due to the pain in her legs.

“Keep focusing on yourself, on healing, Enu. We will have time to get worried about... others.”

She smiled. “Well, at least your trip of a hero did not ended with your head rolling on the ground. That's good. Likho? Is he well? I remember he was here... I guess. Unless that was a... Balance!. Do not tell me he... His spirit came here and...”

She wide opened her eyes when Kian chuckled. “Don't worry. He is fine. He is alive, in his room right now, resting.”

“Is he wounded?”

“No, don't worry. He's been helping you and other's to stay alive. He is exhausted.”

Enu did not looked surprised by that. It seemed that she was aware of those strange and rarely used powers of that Dolmari. Several minutes later, Na'ane appeared to check the wounded and to change Enu's bandage. With a gentle pat on Enu's shoulder, Kian left the room to let the healer work properly.

 

He walked to the HQ. The big central table was not there anymore. It felt strange to see the usual room of strategies without that marvellous woman of red fur bended over the papers spread on the table. The other small tables where the rebels used to play chessboard games or simply eat and drink after a long day of missions, were mostly stacked in a corner. Many of them were beyond repair. The blood had been cleaned but some splashes were impossible to wipe and now were part of the paintings decorating the Enclave's walls.

 

All the bodies of the rebels had been buried following their traditions, close to the feet of the mountain where the new town in the North of Marcuria had been settled. The proximity of winter did not prevent to Magicals to look for the best place where the mountain began to rise. It was a fine symbolic graveyard that many considered their future place where their bodies would finally rest after the end of the war.

To know that others would perform their rituals once they are dead, made Kian think in Bachim, and in the deep regret that Likho always showed for letting that man die in that way. He pressed the collar around his neck, under his clothes. Now the Goddess and the Balance sign were sharing the same place in his chest.

He walked through the long corridor of the Enclave, appreciating the last remanents of the pieces of art that blood did not stain, and stopped in front of Likho's room door. The man was exhausted, like Na'ane.

Even though he was not a healer as the Zhidmari, he had been spilling his own blood to any rebel that needed it. Thankfully, the connection with the Ge'en's Magicals settled in the North provided them several powerful potions that helped the healer as well as the patients.

As soon as a patient was able to resist the long travel through the Mole's tunnels, Na'ane commanded to move the wounded to the North. Not only because there would be more rested healers, but because they had more resources and a safer place than this one. The intention was to leave completely the Enclave in few days, when the weakest patient could resist the travel. It was hard to relax in a place that the enemy knew quite well. Every moment was equally likely to turn into a second slaughter.

Pushing that fear away, Kian knocked the door twice and opened it. The room was almost in penumbra, weakly illuminated by a faint magical blue light. The environment was mystical, and the edge of the things and people inside it had a blurry effect due to the light.

He saw Likho lying on his bed, with his arms resting over his eyes. One of his arms, withotu his usual protectors, displayed several small cuts that had to be deeper if he was able to notice them with such ephemeral light. Every cut had been for each rebel he had been helping through Na'ane. Despite the illumination, the Dolmari looked a bit pale, and probably he was not in his best shape, considering he did not even complained about someone opening his door without his permission.

“Are you awake?” Kian asked, closing the door behind him.

“I wasn't.” Likho said without moving a muscle. His voice was kinder than usual, or maybe it was just another consequence of how drained he was in reality.

Not sure why, Kian approached him and sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the opposite wall where the blurry tiny blue flame moved slowly. Since the trip back to Marcuria, they never spent another moment alone, and he was not sure where Likho had decided to stay on.

It was hard for Kian to get close to someone who was all the time pushing people away, and being honest with himself, his own personality was not gifted for breaking walls and reaching people easily. At some point, he thought that maybe everything that had happened in that trip had been a terrible mistake. But he could not deny it had been different. It had been different of any of those night he had spent in Sadir, in random beds, in dark corners. Whether it was for good or evil, he could not decide; he only could agree it had been different.

 

They remained there, in silence, for minutes that seemed hours, until Likho put his arms over his chest and observed the human. The movement forced Kian to glance at him, and when their looks encountered each other, they remained there, observing the other in that phantasmal atmosphere, not sure if they were looking for comfort or just a cheap excuse to end everything. Going forward, or back.

“Is Enu fine?” Likho finally spoke.

“Yes. All the remaining survivors are doing well too. Na'ane's works has been good. Same as yours.”

“I did nothing.”

“Still... bleeding through dark magic seems quite exhausting.” Kian would never forget that image, the blood oozing from the sword that Bachim had used across his stomach. There was something dark and honourable in such fearful gesture. It was the same feeling when he saw Likho slitting his arm with his dagger, and his blood, red like anyone's, started to glow in a cold red until being guided by Na'ane's dark magic into the patient's wrists.

“What are you here for?”

Likho's voice broke Kian's train of thoughts.“I don't know. Maybe to know if you need something. Maybe to talk.”

Likho raised an eyebrow and sighed, closing his eye. The tense situation he had faced the previous day still gave him a bitter taste. “Talk? What about?. The plan is more or less settled. We just need the people to recover.”

“I'm curious about yesterday. What did you told that man”

Likho sighed. “Nothing in particular. Just a type of oath that Dolmari can do and are impossible to break.”

“May I ask what kind of promise?”

“I promised Shepherd to deal with you as long as you remained loyal to the Resistance. Dol'tradition, again.” Likho sighed trying to get rid of a weight pressing his chest.

After a moment of silence, while Kian was watching the blue flame dancing in the corner of the room, perceiving slowly that forest-like scent, he added “What are you going to do after this is over?” Kian frowned in surprise at his own question. Maybe seeing Enu so good had changed a bit his perspectives.

Likho made a noise that was something between annoyance and a dry chuckle, “I don't even know if I'll survive.”

“We are just thinking in good chances. Everything can go wrong. That's not what I'm asking you.”

Likho opened his eye and looked at him. “I don't know. I don't even think in that possibility. First what's first: destroy the Azadi.”

“Not even one thought?” Kian insisted playfully. He knew there have to be at least one single, constant desire.

Likho frowned. “What now?. No, not a single thought. I've learnt to think in the present all the time... future is just a waste of time and...”

“and?”

“It never matters.”

“I thought you were going to say , at least, that you 'd kill me.”

Likho remained silent for a moment. “Well, if you insist in playing this bullshit… If you don't die, if I don't die...” Likho looked aside, “what kind of death would you prefer?”

“Are you really asking me that?”

“You were the first one asking this shit, don't tell me.”

Kian smiled surrendered. “When I was going to be executed, I'd chosen the blade. Blade is for a warrior's death. Being hanged is for traitors, something I'm not in my own terms. But I'm not sure what kind of options would you give to me.”

“Suitable ones?. Well. A dagger in the heart, skinning alive, a kiss in the forehead.”

Kian frowned surprised. “A kiss?...”

“Each way of dying has a meaning. It marks your body, your soul, your history through your actions when you were alive. A dagger in the heart is the way we kill traitors. Those traitors that gave us a hand when we needed them. Skinning alive is reserved for _ga'andaars_. Kiss in the forehead is always performed by a shaman, but we can overlook that. They put poison on their lips and touch the eye of the soul” he pressed the middle of his forehead with a finger. “Can you guess for who is such death reserved?”

“I imagine that dying by poison is not a merciful death. That person must have done too much harm.”

Likho shook slowly his head. “It's given to the heroes that need to die.”

“You reward your heroes with painful death?” Kian contorted his face in horror. He was pretty close to use the word _savage_ , but his lips remained closed.

“A hero that needs to die is someone that was inspiring time ago, but they are not safe any longer. Shamans take that decision alone, it's for the best of all of us. The rest know about it only when the hero is dead. Shamans spend months to prepare this ritual. They need to acquire poison immunity to kiss the hero without dying.”

“But that doesn't mean that you could lose a hero due to a shaman betrayer?, what makes shamans unable of making mistakes?”

“Nothing”, Likho looked at the ceiling, “Shamans perform that ritual in secrecy, and nobody knows about it until we find the hero dead. The action turns the shaman into a traitor as well. They know their death is through a dagger. That prevents shamans to kill heroes whenever they want. Still yet... I must admit... It's a strange yet a needed solution to stop a hero that went dangerous or would turn into a traitor someday.”

“Killing your heroes through shamans who, later, are considered traitors, but everyone trust in their perceptions until then. Also, they prepare the ritual not to be killed by the poison... but they have death sentence anyway through the dagger. Doesn't it sound strange to you? A bit?.”

“Shamans can see in visions who will turn into a traitor. They are obligated to do the gentle sacrifice before people would be affected. And the ritual is important, because they are responsible of their own actions.”

Kian remained silent for a moment, frowning. “Tell me that you realise how much wrongness there is in that way of thinking”

Likho sighed. “Dol-Intiqua, _the first ones_... we are the ruthless ones. We need to keep alive the traditions that, otherwise, will die into oblivion. It's not about what we think it's right from what's not; it's despair. We already faced our almost extinction with the plague, we almost lost everything, all our traditions. So, we were resolve to do what's needed for keeping them over generations. We don't have permission to change them. They are ancient rules.”

“That's...uh...” again the word appeared in his mind. _Savage_. An once again, the image of the Apostles and their rules appeared in his mind forcing him to remain silent.

“I know. But that's not what we were talking about.”

Kian looked aside and sighed. “None of those death seem to be good for me. I'm not a Dolmari, and all of them are part of your tradition... so.”

Likho chuckled. “Well answered. Still I would like to know.”

“Maybe a dagger?... that's the closest to a blade. And probably I'm a traitor looking through certain lens.”

Likho scrutinised the Azadi's profile. The gentle dagger, giving death to the saviour and the traitor. Such a fitting end.

“And you?” Kian asked, more as a reaction to the thought, to the image of such death. “What kind of death would you choose if you were in my shoes?”

As if the brightest light hit Likho's eye, he closed his eye and turned his face aside. His voice waved. “is it so hard for you to guess?”

It took him some seconds to realise the meaning. “Oh. Do you really would choose that, if given the chance? Is there no more ways to die?”

“There are, but not to me. People like _us_...”

“You know.” Kian interrupted his words, killing the gloomy sentiment. “Several months ago Enu asked me what would have been of my life if it weren't for this war. The thought remained there, flitting around my mind. It was inspiring. Instead of deaths and hatred, why don't you think about that?. What would have been your life without this war? Without the concept of _dolmari creatures_ crossing your life.”

Likho looked at him, frowning. The words stroke his mind, but it took him a moment to understand them, “what does it matter now?. We are living this shit. You can't live by dreaming, Alvane.”

Kian looked at him with his deadpan face and insisted. “Think about.”

Likho sighed in annoyance and reminded that morning before that young Apostle trainee would have killed his father. If _that_ have never happened... he would have learned every little secret of his father's skinning skills, and would have ended as a good skinning and leather worker. He would have made beautiful works in leather; bags, clothes, ceremonial outfits, covers; and probably everything in his life would have been good until the end of his teenage. By then, marriage would have turned into his main priority, and with it, his inner shame would have started sooner than he expected. Another future would have never replaced his destined death. “There is nothing to think. It doesn't change the facts.”

Surprised by that answer, Kian insisted, “Well, change the facts to think in another reality-”

“No other reality changes the fucking fact that I've lost my skin, Azadi.”

He blinked, “So... you don't deserve another reality because-”

Likho sighed. “You don't understand, Kian. A _Ga'andaar_ will never find peace, neither in this life, nor in the other, nor in any different reality you can fancy. I've lost my skin time ago, and that deserves a long, painful death. Thanks to this war, I probably will die like any other rebel: in a battle, by treason stabbed on my back, in a forgotten cell, somewhere in this fucking land left to be rotten and eaten by scavengers.” Likho made a long pause, “I will never know how life could have been without this war, because this is how my reality is since I was born, and in a sense, it liberated me from the real death I deserve. So, no. I'll die with this war, like a rebel. And that means I will bring you with me.”

Kian smirked. Now _that_ was Likho. He was missing that small amount of daily threats. “Me as a rebel or an Azadi?” he said mischievously.

The dark, hard look he received told him that Likho did not enjoyed the joke. “You never consider yourself as a rebel... The answer is clear.”

 _Yes, of course it was clear._ However, Likho's words had an ambivalence that, for a moment, Kian enjoyed. And it brought that passage from the depth of his mind.

_And I was nothing but the treason and the betrayer, the execution and the executioner of my own fragility. How impossible is for us to give us peace, to accept the fear that grows inside us. So hard to sigh in comfort, accepting the pain that a creature, free, would eat us up from the inside. And I am here, in the place where the Sorrow bares every night, waiting for it. But it does not come. It is a mere shadow of my own reflection. A stick hitting hard on me that nobody but me, is controlling._

“ _And the solution to the enigma is obvious, yet terrifying. The only word that lives like a ghost in the language: Kaledhin_ ” Kian whispered, saying aloud the last part of that fragment that had hit him somehow.

Likho sat on the bed with his eye fixated on the human. It has been so many years since the last time he listened such old and scholastic Dolmari word aside the _Ga'andaar_. But it was more than that, it was the whole phrase, remembered suddenly from his past. He swallowed as Kian looked at him with his deadpan face.

“I've been reading some books before going to Ge'en. I found one. Maybe you should read it. It's translated, but it was written by a Dolmari poet, how was his name?.” Kian scratched his forehead but he did not need to force his memories.

“Delkran.” Likho's voice said it, softly, as the image of the gentle Dolmari, smiling at him, was taking shape from the ocean of memories.

“Did you read it?”

“I can't read. My eye gets tired too soon. But I know my language and I knew him. He liked to say that shit all the time.” He looked down observing his own hands on his lap.

“I've read the book. It's a long poem about freedom, and... well. _Andaarin_ and _Kaledhin_.”

Likho frowned a bit. “It is pronounced _Kjahleidhin_.”

“So, you really knew a word for _forgiveness_ after all...”

“You little shit...”, Likho said chuckling softly.

“I should find the book and read it to you...” Kian said, and got up from the edge of the bed, but Likho took Kian's hand.

“You can read me the book later...”, slowly, Likho looked up, as if he was gathering his own strength.“Stay...”

“It's just a moment, the book must be-”

“During the night...”

At first Kian blinked, observing the man whose eye avoided his, immediately after saying those words. Kian smirked. He sat again on the edge of the bed and approached him slowly. The lack of any kind of resistance encouraged him to bend over the man, pressing him softly against the mattress in a kiss that Likho did not dodge nor push away. On the contrary, pulling that body against him, the Dolmari kept him closer, as his hands slid to the lower back of the Azadi.

As they broke the kiss, the scent of forest and ocean turned a bit more intense than usual. Encouraged, Kian buried his face in the Dolmari's neck, kissing him and licking him in zones where soon after he would bite. The thought of a love-bite turned him on. It was part of his style, something learnt as a teenager.

All those unknown bodies, giving and receiving pleasure, were always eager to put their mark in their casual partners, a foolish game without competitors nor prizes. However, it had a secret purpose. The love-bites were the only register to guess who they had been with who. When some of his fellows appeared in the morning with those marks, it was common that everyone would indulge themselves into the fantasy that maybe _that_ man, so delightful to the eye, had been the one they had enjoyed the previous night.

He had found the perfect place, at a side of Likho's neck, close to the tendon and the vein, and as if he were in a trance, he bit the place, waiting to listen the moan that was so common in the Sadir's nights. However, he only felt a violent grip on his nape hair pushing him away.

“Don't be a fucking savage.”

All those bodies and their moans, all that delusional game disappeared in a blink of an eye, and Kian observed surprised Likho's frowned face. The whole situation had turned so ironic. He only remained there, observing the man that, slowly, was smoothing his grip while rubbing the bite.

“And I thought that those kinks were only Zhid's habits.” Likho said in frustration, as he relaxed his body again, and allowed Kian to continue his work on his neck, but this time without biting. Maybe soft pressures with teeth would work as well. Kian changed his strategy and played with his lips and tongue on the places where he faked to bite, scraping it gently with his teeth. That was more than good and snatched some involuntary moans from the Dolmari's lips. His exploration did not ended there, and he climbed to reach the ear, where he played with his wet tongue. A play that, instead of producing the same effect on the neck, tensed Likho's body.

“For fuck's sake, are you a fucking Zhid?. Stop that, it's disgusting.”

Kian stopped immediately and buried his face on Likho's neck staying there to breathe the marvellous scent. Certainly, Azadi style was not for Likho's taste.

It was revealing, because if there were some rumours about Dolmari in his old Sadir, were always about them being savages in any aspect of their live, not much different than animals. The idea of mating during their oestrus cycle had been always a common knowledge that even Azadi scholars used to refer to; it was supposed to be more than just a simple rumour spread all over the Empire. Dolmari were, like any animals, pushed and conditioned in their behaviour due to their own cycles and rudimentary needs. Kian chuckled in Likho's neck. What kind of ideas he had not so long time ago.

He started over again his trail of kisses on Likho's neck, going up through his jaw until his lips and remained there, playing with lazy kiss that turned into a competition to know who suffocated the other dominantly, to finish in small bites over the other's lips. Sometimes using the teeth, sometimes using the same lips. No matter how, Likho never complained about kisses, and that had been revealing the first time he had been with him.

Revealing not only because a Dolmari could enjoy them, and especially a Dolmari like Likho, but also because he himself took pleasure in them. Kian was not used to them, and so far the information he could guess in the Dolmari's words, Likho either. However, in an unspoken way, kisses were always welcomed, in any form: short or long, gentle or intense, lazy or deep. Kisses were a good excuse to slide their hands all over the other's body, to unfasten what needed to be taken away, to unbutton what could allow a deeper contact of their skins, forgetting where they were going as well as who they were.

 

 

Moving him to lay on his side, the Dolmari kept kissing him deeply, while his hands slid through Kian's body. The man was unable to moan when the touch of those fingers started a slow, maddening work to go into his body without force or haste.

The inner caress of just a finger, without any other purpose than pleasure in that moment, without being a mean for something more, voiding the idea of any future pain, took Kian's breath all at once. He was unable to groan or moan and only could let some guttural sounds escape from his throat; a longing cry trapped inside the depth of the kiss. The pleasure was even more overwhelming when the other hand started to stroke his member in a different rhythm. He had to break the kiss to breath wildly as Likho snuck his own leg between his and kissed his neck, never marking his skin. The gesture was so delightful for Kian, that he could feel an orgasmic blow. The savage was careful, fierce, and devoted in every aspect.

Kian could not be more compressed against that man, dragging him mad with such a slow pace, knowing where to touch, and how. Those hands were _magical_. He needed an anchor, a place where to remain with all the pleasure fleeing from his lips in heavy and slowly more accelerated moans. He dug his fingers in Likho's hair and guided him to his lips once again, drowning the small cries that were starting to come out as a preamble of the highest peak. And he had to break the kiss soon after, sinking his own final moan in that neck, while feeling Likho's hand getting wet, and a gentle hum deafened his ears for several seconds. That had been the second time he had such intense pleasure, and it was thanks to those hands. The scent of forest surrounded him, as he closed his eyes to recover his messy breathing, allowing Likho to embrace him.

It was ironically unbelievable. From all those casual lovers he had, he would have never imagine that a Dolmari would care to give this odd and uncommon comfort after the intense pleasure.

He opened slightly his eyes and looked at the man at his front. Maybe the moment had drunken him into a short delirium, or maybe this was the effect of that strange smell that Dolmari seemed to have... but he felt the urge to say _something_ deep _._ Something melt in his chest _._ Something he did not even understood completely.

“Likho...” he started, but the averting eye of the other man stopped his words. Maybe the Dolmari had realised about his intentions, perhaps he was just worried same as he had been after their first time. Maybe now he was swimming in that ocean of self guilt. Clearly, he was not ready for listening anything; this was not the best time.

Kian silenced his sentence in his owns lips and cuddled up next to him, always burying his face in that man's neck. All those unusual thoughts crossing his mind had to be the consequence of that strange, hypnotic yet innocuous perfume. After some minutes, recovered of the intense feelings, Kian ran his hand down into the Dolmari underwear, but when he brushed Likho's abdomen, the man just spoke without stopping Kian's hands, “No. I'm not in the mood for that...”

Kian drew his head back to see the man's eye and surprised, he raised an eyebrow. “are you sure?”

“Quite. I'm tired due to blood-letting, remember? it’s been three days I've been bleeding the hell.”

Ashamed for having almost forgotten the entire context that was happening outside that bed, Kian averted his eyes and rested his relaxed hand over Likho's waist. “I thought... you...you asked me to stay...”

“Mnhm.”

“But... you don't want relief?.”

Likho sighed and cuddle a bit more against the man. “I do.”

 

Before letting the sleep to take control of his body, Likho could see behind this shut eye that monstrous figure. A beast, tall and huge, changing its shape slowly into a vague profile that had thought lost with such detail: Palevan’s.

_What matters now?._

The war was coming. They had been offered as the last sacrifice – which was never the last one -, the withered hopes of reaching freedom once and for all were opaque under the experience that comes with years, the bitter taste that death was close. Many thigns convinced him to simply throw himself into the abyss. A dark, endless abyss, falling deeper and deeper, speeding up into the void of desperation, allowing the sharp wind to cut his skin, tearing it apart.

_What matters now?._

That horrific image of Palevan started to rip his own skin off, and festering blood oozed through all those wounds. The monster’s shape changed once more, but this time, part of the tore skin could not hide the raw muscles beneath it. The new figure had lost an eye, and the feeling of watching a mirror was unmistakable. Now, it had Likho’s shape.

_What matters now?._

What was the difference between him and that _beast_?, between him and Palevan?.

After all, after a long life of rough rules to obey in the name of preserving something that was turning against their own people, he could understand Palevan’s actions.

Maybe that young Dolmari had found in the General Aslaf something that none of his people would have ever offered to him. A strange acceptance that was liberating, even though it was given with the same hand that kept his people in slavery. It may have been the pleasure too, and the small safe place than an Azadi could give to a _ga’andaar_. The enemy had a comfy lair for him to hide during a night or two, to moan in forgetful rituals, to overlook his skin just for a couple of hours. It was the rejection of a world that denied his existence, even though it was a world full of his own people. Maybe, just maybe, that world was not worth existing. Maybe, changing some things were only possible through destruction.

The thought gave Likho goosebumps all along his body. He cuddled even more against Kian, praying in his mind to Amada, to give him peace somehow, because he accepted it: he had no idea what kind of person he was anymore. He was completely lost, embracing with each passing day, the beast that was eating him alive.

He lost the track of his last thought when the sleep took over him.

* * *

 

It was a blow straight to his soul. He could feel it. The hum in his ears, the strong variation of the fabric of the world ripping off some threads related to his own existence. Even the Magical with the most mediocre abilities for arcane arts would have perceived the blow. The time had been broken.

Likho got up and dressed quickly. Still sleepy, Kian turned over, and rubbing his eyes, he looked at the man. “Mn... what's happening?”

“Something is wrong. Get up.”

Those words were enough; his mind immediately settled in that cold blood mode, he dressed up in a fast movement and took his sword. They left the room without minding appearances; Kian kept following Likho's steps.

They got in the HQ room, where Na'ane was on the ground with her hands in her head; a box of bandages and medicines was by her side.

Kian ran into her and squatted, realising her eyes were unfocused. He shook her, and after a moment, she regained consciousness again.

"What happens?" Kian asked looking around a couple of Zhids that were leaning against the walls, dizzied.

"It comes from below. The training ring?." Na'ane said, but her words were interrupted by calm steps accompanied by another sound, resembling a cane hitting the ground. Slowly, those sounds were approaching them through the stairs.

Likho took his daggers as Kian drew the sword, stepping forward.

From the stairs of the training room, a tall woman with turquoise hair appeared, looking with horror the state of the place, the dry blood on the walls that could not be cleaned on the paintings, the remaining rubble around, the tables broken, and that certainty that a slaughter had been occurred in that place .

Likho lifted his daggers, but the Dolmari symbol on her forehead stopped him from attacking her immediately. That, and the disturbing familiarity in her.

Lost in a memory fused with his present, Kian walked some steps ahead. That woman was someone he knew it. Deep inside him, in a cold dark sea of lost memories, she was there. He was completely sure of it.

"Kian", the woman said, and with her tone, Kian's memory cleared. Her mother's voice had just come from those lips.

And her figure, still blurry in his memory, brought him that sunny day in Sadir. The breeze had been stopped same as the time. He remembered his mother falling from the edge of the big walls, those walls had protected Sadir for years. She had been fighting a man with endless shadows in his soul. He remembered the darkness in him. The detail was still fresh. That man had pushed her without intentions, but her ankle faltered, and then she fell. Then, the endless falling happened, the time stopped, something powerful tore apart the space and ate his mother alive. And that had been all. She had disappeared forever. Black tendrils caressed his head, filing his vision with holes of darkness as it ate his memories up, all of them, except that lullaby, except the sense of blood that song used to inspire him, except that memory of falling into a dark, cold sea of emptiness. The sea of the Undreamed.

“How is this possible?. You are even younger than me...”

Saga smiled at him. She approached him and squeezed him in a tight embrace, cleaning more black tendrils that Kian's mind still had. The stolen memories would never return to him, but those which were blurry due to the time were now clear, and in between them he could see her. This blue haired woman, older and kinder, mortal and immortal, from the future and the past. A strange wizard that had appeared in Sadir hiding her abilities. His mother. How had he forgotten her?. He was overwhelmed.

“Child. My time walks backwards. I need to fix everything before it's too late.” She said, and smirked at him.

Na'ane swallowed hardly, as a couple of tears fell from her cheeks. There was not even a close resemblance with that pale woman of dark lips from their past, but it felt exactly the same. That inspiring aura, that powerful look.

Likho was getting more nervous over the seconds, unable to understand who was that woman and why it was so familiar.

Saga caressed Kian's cheek and placed a kiss on his forehead before looking around. Her eyes met Likho's and a wide, sad smile curved her lips. Slowly, she walked towards him and took his hand caressing the palm's back. his fingers were full of scars, its bones were like callus under his skin as a result of the healing of broken hands. There was almost nothing of the young, strong boy she had in her memories, that meeting when this man was younger, hungry and had put his feet in the Journeyman's inn.

"You are Likho, right?. What happened to you?" She said, as April's memories of him started to appear slowly, remembering his devotion in their shared caresses as the despair and aimless hatred in those daggers that he was holding. The remembrance of that lost eye came to her, as a bad dream that was much better to forget.

"Is it you? Do not toy with me. You don't look like her..." Likho's voice broke and tears fell from his eye.

"Who would toy with you, big boy?." she smiled, and he could not restrain it any longer. He hugged her desperately, pressing her against his destroyed body and soul, nailing his fingers on her back, breaking into pieces every part of him that he could barely kept together.

The moment was gone when Crow flew into the place.

"Put me a can as a helmet and call me an Azadi. Is it you' April?"

They took distance. Saga cleaned Likho's wet cheek with her sleeve. Giving to the Dolmari a bit of time, she turned on her heels and looked at the bird, who was now on a barrel.

"You must be Crow." She smiled, as the bird flew to her shoulder and hugged her.

" _must be?_. You have already forgotten me!?. This is the third or the fourth time you are doing this, leaving me behind. You are such a despicable friend. But if you weren't my friend, I would have abandoned you time ago"

Saga chuckled as petted the bird. Then, she looked around, this time with detail.

“Where is.. that woman of red fur... Shepherd?” She said as she observed Na'ane to get on her feet once again.

“Dead.” Likho said with a clear voice as he rubbed his eye.

"Then, I've came too late. The paths were not working as they should. They are mostly blocked."

"Are you April, too?. She is dead. I saw her." Kian said with doubt in his voice.

"No, Kian. I'm not April. She is dead, indeed." she said looking at Likho who frowned sadly to her. "I only have her memories, somehow. I must do something, because she remembered a future that will be a disaster. Call them prophecies if you like, but they are April's memories running through my mind. Nothing more." she looked at Kian.

"So... this is the last part". Likho fixated his eye on her, as a sudden revelation hit his mind. Saga remained in silence. "Is _that_ shit again?"

Kian frowned in confusion.

"The brute creature wants attention, April" Crow said, but before he could dodge it, Likho caught him and spread one of his wings with the intention to simply rip it off.

"To whom you've just called creature, critter?"

"Stop that. Release Crow. Now." Saga commanded with the gestures that had made the Scorpion famous, and took the poor bird into her hands. Likho only looked at her, angry, waiting the answer.

Kian crossed his arms over his chest, and looked at Likho. "What's it about _that_ _shit again_?"

"It is the prophecy that April told us time ago" Na'ane said, stepping forward, looking at the bandages box held in her hands. "The one who will restore the Balance will be the one who will destroy it forever. April accomplished the first part... but then..."

"She had to come back not to live her life but to fulfil bullshit" Likho added in a bitter tone. "you were always tired of not being as important as you were back then. You started to take the most risky missions because you always wanted to be special."

"This is not about-"

"It is, April. It is. You never could deal with the idea of being a nobody. With _another_ nobody." Likho run his fingers through his hair, as he gave her his back. Lately, he had been dealing with so many things beyond his ability; this was another disgusting thing to add to the list.

“My name is Saga. I'm not her, don't confuse yourself. I only have her memories. And think what you want, Likho. Some things must be done, no matter what.”

He sighed defeated and looked at her, a dark sadness pierced his chest. "But you are exactly the same like her"

She walked some steps aside and looked at Kian. “Child. I've came to give you a mission. One that only you can fulfil. The tower that has been built in this world is destroying the balance, draining all its energy up, and before I can do my part, I need it to be destroyed. It's the responsible of the block of the worlds' paths.

“We are planing to expel the Azadi from this land...” Likho said, as Saga smirked at him with a knowing looking. I _s it not what you were doing for ages?_. He frowned, understanding that woman too much for his own good. “And this is not a simple dream. We have many military groups in the North. We freed Ge'en.”

Saga wide open eyes filled Likho's self pride. “you did... what?”

“Thousands of Magicals, outnumbering the fucking Azadi, wielding weapons and magic. Finally, our revenge is coming soon.”

She looked at Kian for a moment, and then observed the Dolmari, “are you going to destroy every Azadi?”

His eye were fixated on her, with hatred. He was not a Dolmari anymore, not a Dol-Antiqua at least, but he did not want to reflect that on his behaviour. His hesitation revolted his own guts, and in a spur of the moment he added, “Of course. Every Azadi must return to the fucking hole they came from... or die.”

Kian looked down, aside.

“Likho, let me tell you something.” Saga brought her staff close to her chest, “Don't feed cycles. The Balance needs to stop being fed. For once. Kian must eat it.”

He frowned, “Huh?”

Kian raised his eyebrows and lifted his look, “I must what?”

“You'll understand to its due time”

Kian sighed in resignation before spoke, “If you want, Saga, we can talk about plans. You can visit the town in the North with us tomorrow. We are planing an assault in a month.”

“That would be good, but your assalt must be taken sooner” she squeezed her staff and a gentle light flickered on its top. “Three days. It's all what you have before the destruction.”

Kian frowned. “Is this related with the Prophet?”

Saga opened wide her eyes. “Yeah. I didn't know you knew...”

“Anna told me...”

“And why you didn't say a word to us?” Likho asked violently. “Are you planning something else with her?”

“Ugh, Likho.” Kian and Saga said at the same time.

“I guess we need to talk about this, and probably with Enu too.” Kian added. “She is good to see bad sides and possibilities that most of us overlook. Besides, she always wanted to meet you. Or, well, your memories.”

Saga smiled, “April is a good friend of her. From Stark.”

Everyone frowned.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, any suggestion or correction will be appreciated.
> 
> Current mood of the fic: Canon?. My English-Spanish dictionary has no such a word. Nope.
> 
> Note: We saw in the videogame that the “Azadi Tower” was not immediately after that entrance in the outsider part of the Market. I'll call Fortress to that building surrounding the big Tower.

_The child had the power to destroy everything. Even what is unable to dream, to shape, to stay. A child born from the neglected desire of a moment, from an entity that was destined to stop the evil machine of the nature, from a creature beyond the world or time. Beyond the Balance itself. But it had not been a mere accident. It had been, maybe, the Balance working in its twisted way. A Balance withered across the eternity, too old to persist. A Balance that had consumed all its fuel. It was the natural exhaustion of all things that exist. The void included._

_He had to close his eyes forever, some day, in his due time, and rest in the cold, dark sea of the emptiness._

_Because everything has an end.  
Because even eternity has to stop some day. _

 

_A Full Understanding of the Balance and the Vestrum Rituals, page 472._

 

* * *

Half of the Magical guerilla was against the idea of adding a complete stranger into their plans. They had enough with a damn Azadi who, even worse, was an Apostle with free hands and a sword in his belt carried so proudly along the village. Now, they had to accept a wizard whose magical power was out of this world; even the Magicals with the most mediocre powers could perceive it. Her strange appearance and careless use of the  _eye of the soul_ in her forehead had put most Dolmari groups against her. However, Likho's support barely made them accept her under a wide range of mistrustful looks. 

That action was going to cost Likho his people's trust for a long time. The well-known man whose hatred for humans had been always recognized, especially during the old times of the Aba-Intiqua guerilla, was now considered a tamed Magical charmed by an Azadi, who accepted blindly everything that a human wizard said. Rumours did not go further, but it was a matter of time  to do so . Of course, Likho was counting on that everything would be forgotten in case of success.

 

In the Northern village, in middle of a meeting, Saga was explaining her prophecies to a huge group of Magicals who only looked at her with deep suspicion. Likho and Kian were part of the discussions table, receiving ill looks from time to time. The assault to the Tower had been set to a month few days ago, but now the strategy had changed to only three days; just because a complete stranger had decided so. No wonder why they looked at them with hateful eyes.

Thankfully Enu, with rudimentary crutches, reached the table in middle of the meeting and defended the presence of humans changing plans at the last moment. "It's not a bad thing.” she said smiling, “Every side had its traitors, and the Azadi have these humans". 

Of course the message put everyone more nervous. The implications on the other way around, that some of the Magicals could be traitors as well, kept lurking in everyone's mind ever since.

"I don't mean it.... Really... I mean..." Enu said and giggled in an edgy reaction. Everyone looked at the Magicals from the Enclave. Likho had to clench his teeth when most of the looks focused on him. It was insulting.

The Enclave was probably the Resistance group with more humans in their rows. It had also been the group that suffered the most terrific attack lately. Their reaction was understandable, but still yet, hurtful.

"Attention, please. We have no time for this. I've seen the prophecies. No one here is a traitor." Saga tried to fix the situation in a quick way.

"Pft. You could be the one. You brave, saying that", a Zhid woman, with a deep scar in her face nailed her claws into the table.

“What should be, according to you, my intention in doing this then?” Saga said rolling her eyes. “I'm a stranger, I'm not even from this world. I care a shit about this historical moment. I only need to stop something bigger than any of us.”  
All the Zhids raised their ears, fixed their looks on her, and some even snarled in hate. “So you admit you care nothing about this rebellion!” The Zhid woman added just to emphasise Saga's words. 

“But I do care.” Likho's hoarse voice dragged everyone's attention on him. “She may not care about this, but she can be useful. We can use what she has to offer and obtain mutual benefit. Are you against that?”

“We don't want to return to Ge'en or to that life. We prefer death instead.” With her look falling down, the Zhid woman explained in a soft voice. A gentle murmur spread in the room, some Magicals nodded several times. “We don't want to be betrayed. We want our lives...”

“Believe me, I know.” Likho said gravely and looked at Saga. 

The woman observed the whole meeting and took out a map from her bag, expanding it on the table. “So, now we fixed that, let's listen carefully. The prophecies say that Azadi will get out from the Tower to take the streets. Many will die on both sides. Inside the Tower a man with powerful darkness will complete a deadly conjuration to open the world's gate. Every world will collapse with each other. In some prophecies, that will happen anyway, but slowly, progressively. In others, it will crash the fabric of the worlds, time and space. The Collapse will destroy everything we know.” Saga looked down, pointing out the Azadi Tower. “It has to fall. The power it gathers will destroy us all. Will destroy the worlds. There will be no Arcadia where to rebel. Now you understand why this is bigger than anything?.”  
Sceptical, Magicals kept looking one another, feeling the consistence of Saga's words in the back of their minds, but struggling not to believe in them blindly. 

For first time in the meeting, Kian spoke, “Destroying the Tower will make the worlds safe?”  
“Likely. Or at least, they''ll collapse slowly. Until the end.”

Likho frowned. “So, they will collapse anyway?”

“ Likely. But what do you prefer: a collapse now, violent, worlds crashing, or a progressive collapse that will last what it must? Maybe it will take generations for you all to notice it. It's a chance.” Another wave of murmurs spread all over the room. Saga continued with her eyes focused on Kian, “In the Tower you will find the man who is working on this forced Collapse. You, and only you can consume his energy, make it part of you. Destroying it. You need to face him and return alive.”

The silence after those cryptic words lasted several minutes. Nobody could understand the meaning, but all of them knew that asking for clarification was wasted time. The strange woman had already told the details to all those who wanted to listen. So that, after a short nod, she left the meeting.   
The morale in the room was strange to describe. There was not dejection nor enthusiasm. It was a deep degree of mistrust but also a strange fear in the back of everyone's mind telling them that those words were as true as the table in front of them. The plans had been changed in the last moment, and every preparation would take place in few days. Almost a month of time reduced to a couple of days. The difference was big. It was not the same to have their soldiers and fighters restful after a month of good meals and nights. They knew that they had just narrowed their chances for success.

* * *

 

It was midnight. Likho was sat in the shore beside his boots, looking at the sky over the sea, enjoying the rough texture of the sand below his bare feet. It was a quiet moment, one of the few he could find to peace his soul before the big day.

Suddenly, the sound of several steps reached him from his back but did not break his peaceful mind state. It was Magicals' steps, he could sense it.   
Two Zhids and three Dolmari surrounded him. Some of them had their hands into the pockets of their precarious pants, others simply crossed their arms, looking at him. The Zhid eyes glowed in a particular way while the moonlight projected their shadows over him. 

Likho sighed and looked up. “What?”.  
The group looked at a young Zhid who stepped forward and squatted in front of the Dolmari to look at him straight into his eye. “We wanted to tell you something. We respect your leadership...”  
“But?” Likho raised an eyebrow. His voice was still calm.

“...but...” the Zhid looked at one of his Dolmari fellow, who nodded, “... but... we don't want any Azadi in our group. We understand the role of humans in this, but... Azadi are not humans.”

Likho snorted without averting his eye, “quite sensible statement.”

“Save your bullshit sarcasm, Dol.” he heard a rough voice coming from one of the Dolmari at his back.

“We don't want him in the operation. He... may be a traitor... We know what happened in the Enclav-”  
“That traitor was human, and now is dead.” Likho added.

“We don't care. Azadi are traitors. More this one. A traitor to his own people... how do you expect his loyalty to us? Nonsense.” a Zhid woman said, she was standing at his front.

“The plan was settled already. We can use the _gh'azi_ to make them follow him into traps. We can use _it._ Besides, the prophecies say-"

"Fuck the prophecies, that's more human bullshit", the Zhid woman interrupted his words.

“I find that it's quite strange for someone like you, Likho, to defend so much a shit like that.”   
Likho stood up when he listened _that_ voice. It had been _that_ Dolmari. The one who had chained Kian days ago. The one who had cast a shadow of doubt over him. Once again. A dangerous Dolmari called Yhruk. Likho turned over his heels and faced the man. A mature, straightforward Dolmari with handsome features and a personality that was all the time overrunning everyone. Quite charming, indeed. 

“I've grown tired of your poisonous words lately.” Likho said without averting his eye from him.

“Feeling threatened by the truth?” He grinned at him. 

“More like getting sick of your bullshit.”

“I know a Dolmari without skin when I see it. And somehow, you are starting to giving me bad signals about that...”

The other two Dolmari startled and looked at each other. They shared a surprised look, and then, returned their attention to Likho, observing him up down.

Likho stepped forward and grabbed the man by the lapel of his shirt. “I will give you all the wrong signals once I knock your teeth out.”

In the same moment Yhruk smiled smugly, he took a pair of knives from nowhere and put one in Likho's throat and the other on his ribs. Likho swallowed. Those movements only could mean one thing: this was a double agent of the old Aba-Intiqua operations. Spies infiltrated in Sadir, looking like slaves working for the Azadi as supposed traitors of the Magicals when in fact they were informants of the Rebels. More dangerous than Palevan himself. Men hard to trust in, but needed. Always. 

“I don't think so.” He said, smiling in a self-confident way that only a whole life under pressure shapes. 

“Hey, stop this bullshit”, an old Zhid woman took the knives and touched Likho's wrists to separate them. “I don't care what you are sick of or whatever. We are surviving. We don't want to wake up a day and find out Azadi are beheading us.”

Likho sighed and rubbed his own throat. A line of blood. “Tell that to that fucker. He seems eager to ruin our plans. And make me angry. I wonder  _why_ .” Likho attacked back.

Yhruk recovered his knives from the Zhid's hands and hid them in his belt. “I'm always thinking in our people. Always and first. Not like others.”

“Huh?” Likho frowned deeply. “Then you should stick to the plans. We can use the _gh'azi_ in our purpose. He is a tool. Nothing more.” Likho said, feeling a strange piercing pain across his chest. 

“Then kill him.” Yhruk said wiping out his smug smile from his face. 

“You don't need to tell me. It's what I've promised long time ago to my father's body, to myself.” Likho's voice was deeper than usual. “But until this war is not over, and we are not done with the Azadi, we need to keep him on our side. Alive. Whether we like it or not.”

“Well. I'd like to see his body when that day comes. Good to know you are still with us” The Dolmari said with a broad faked smile. “In any case, I will make sure you follow your words. Nobody wants to fail in their promises, right?, Amada hates that.” He kept the eye contact for a time longer than it was needed, and then, he walked away. The rest of the group followed him. The last two Dolmari looked at him with a bit of revulsion. He could see the mistrust in their eyes, but also the unspoken promise of silence. It was for the people's sake. No Dolmari would follow a creature of selfishness, but they would never look at him in the same way. He knew it.

 

Once alone, Likho sat again on the sand and looked at the sky, this time far from relaxing. His turbulent thoughts ended in a knot at his throat. His hands were trembling, and the looming feeling of spiders crawling under his skin threatened him once more, but never felt them. He wondered if he had ever felt them. Maybe everything was in his mind. Perhaps he had never turned into anything but had always been that way. 

 

He was not sure of anything anymore. At all. But for what it mattered. Time had come to an end.

* * *

 

He woke up alone in the bed, feeling that bitter taste in his mouth. The same taste preceding an Apostle mission. There was going to be so much spilt blood at the end of that day.

He took the chain around his neck caressing the medallions. The Goddess and The Balance. Who would win today?. 

He looked through the small hole on the wall that was supposed to be a window. It was still night. Moonlight passed across it illuminating the room faintly.

The last day of his borrowed time.

He fastened his belt while remembered all the details that Enu had pointed out the previous day. Flaws in the maps, zones that looked tricky, small B plans for small situations out of the big logistic.

Saga had left Arcadia, to fight her own battles, according to her words. He smiled at the memory. Her voice was warm, gentle, as he remembered it. It felt as if his mother's death had never occurred. Well, it had been so. 

He went to the kitchen, more like the empty space between the two rooms. The people of the village had given to him the most precarious house in the town, close to the beach. They wanted him far away. The only person living there was Likho, who was responsible of him. The Magicals wanted him to watch over the Azadi. 

And he was there, in that small table, among the shadows that a consumed candle had cast upon him. The taciturn Dolmari looked at him, his eye flickered in fear. Same as Kian's.

He reached him, placing a rickety chair beside him, and sat on it. The smell of forest was intense, as it was the silence. His eyes could not distinguish the details, but the moonlight slipping though the sloppy planks of the shack was enough. He put his hand on that blue shoulder and squeezed it. 

“Time has come”, Kian said. 

Likho touched the forearm and nodded. 

The time for whatever fate awaiting them had finally come.

* * *

 

The first screams were heard in the docks at midnight. Several Magicals, attacking from boats, started to set on fire the Azadi cloudships. Fired arrows and blast of magical fire hit the ships. The first Azadi alarm sang a couple of minutes later.

Simultaneously a large group of humans, the Resistance sympathizers, brought the attention of the soldiers in the highest level of the town, meanwhile the true large part of the Magicals, entering to the city through the Mole's former house, reached the other extreme. 

Overwhelmed by the numbers, more soldiers were called from the Tower to control the situation. But... there were  so  many Magicals. Mixed with humans, the angry mobs kept running and hitting soldiers with explosives, magic blasts or simple rudimentary weapons. The patrol units spread all over the city had to be abandoned in order to contain the street confrontations. It was the perfect time to sneak into the Tower. A large group of Magicals led by Likho  went into the  F ortress. Most of them were Dolmari and carried bags containing explosives in their backs. They were not  standard bombs but magical ones; only through Magicals blood they could be activated. A smart kind of explosive, able to activate itself in case of the carrier falls dead in combat. 

Immediately after walking inside the first corridor, Kian went forefront to play his role. Any soldier ahead would be asked for help, arguing that some Magicals had infiltrated farther into the Fortress. Worried, the soldier would follow Kian until reaching a dark corner where the Dolmari would wait for him and kill him. Small bits of revenge.

They kept running non stop. From the outside, bombs and screams were heard in a chaotic chant of war, shouts of anger and vengeance, the clang of swords, the hissing sound of the hail of arrows led by the wrath that had been cultivated for decades. Every Magical was tasting their so long awaited vengeance, even though it could represent  the last thing they could ever taste.

Suddenly, a blast destroyed the left wall of the corridor they were running along. They had to stop and drew their weapons. Plans were starting to change from what they had determined at the meeting.

But theirs fists, strongly squeezing their weapons, relaxed at the sight of another group of Magicals. The dissident ones. Likho snarled when he saw _that_ Dolmari once again. Yhruk. He only looked at Kian and grinned at Likho when another group of Azadi soldiers appeared, following the Magicals  recently met. The fight was not delayed, and as soon as it started, it finished. The Dolmari group could reduce the soldiers easily, suffering only small scratches, after all, Likho's group was made of old veterans in the Rebellion. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Likho yelled at Yhruk once he killed the soldier at his front. 

“Watching if plans are being performed in the way they were accorded.”

“Fuck you...”

The Dolmari chuckled and made a gesture to his group, running straight to the corridors that led to the highest ranks of the Azadi in upper floors of the Fortress. 

Likho sighed angrily and commanded everyone to simply run to the Tower. This unexpected intervention had altered the timing and also the maps that were in their minds. The strategy of using Kian as a bait had gone to hell. Likho could not help but swearing at the events in Dol'ave. That damned group was made of farmers, clearly. They lacked of the most elemental guerilla training. With the exception of  _that_ Dolmari.  _Oh, yes._ That one was doing  that on purpose.

Likho split the group into two, the vanguard led by Kian, focused on killing soldiers and exploring the corridors ahead, and the Dolmari group, working in planting bombs in the walls that were the outside support of the Tower. His group found quickly the small garden surrounding the entrance of the building. From it, they could see up to the sky, where the Tower's walls penetrated the clouds, its top was unreachable for their eyes. There was no mistake, this was the target.

Likho put his explosives around its base and splattered them with his blood, setting them in a dormant state. A burst of magic was all what was needed to make them explode. However, the plan kept shifting from what had been determined. Several Azadi soldiers carrying guns, and a couple of wizards trying to counteract the power of the blood magic that was in the bombs, attacked them. The group faced the fight, looking for more revenge, but the sudden sound of gunshots eliminated several Dolmari. Likho fell on the ground, gasping, but he stood up as soon as he could, throwing his daggers and killing two soldiers. Kian group joined them a minute later, and finished the soldiers off from behind.

The situation was under control once again, so they looked at the injured fellows. Some were on the ground, lifeless, others were hardly panting. A hooded Zhidmari ran to them, healing the deepest wounds.

Kian looked at Likho, worried. The Dolmari was grabbing his chest, trying to contain the blood until his legs failed. Kian reached him but another Dolmari threw him out of the way.

"Go to do your part,  _gha'zi_ ".  The Dolmari said allowing the  Z hidmari to heal Likho's wound. With a face contorted in pain, Likho nodded at Kian. They had to go on. Without  more delay , Kian entered into the  T ower.

 

 

Kian stepped into the Tower. It was a long set of intricate corridors, same as those they had to pass through before, but this time he had no map in his mind to know what corners could be a trap, not even a small auxiliary plan made just in case. The place inside the Tower was larger than the outside, and a strong beam of light fell up down ahead; maybe it was located at the centre of the labyrinth. A piercing hum, constant and strong, was dizzying him step after step, making his thoughts heavy and grey. He could only guess that the light beam was the source of such noise. The walls reached far up beyond his eyes could distinguish. The height of the building was not a mere optical illusion, it was certainly tall enough to lose its top into the sky itself.

Mortified by the thought that once more he was failing when he was needed the most, he stopped his aimless walking through the corridors, grabbed the medallions, and while closing his eyes tightly, he prayed squeezing the symbols.  _Please, guide me._

A flapping sound came from his back. He looked around, trying to focus with his numb senses. It took him a moment to see the dark, black bird flying toward him. Crow.  _Thanks The Balance._

"Look what the spring brought. The no-mating man. What's up?. Long time no seen you."

Kian frowned, "I need to reach the centre of this damned maze."

"What?. So straightforward?. Not even a _hi_?. What I've done to have always such ungrateful partners?." The bird sighed, landing on Kian's shoulder. "By the way... What maze?"

"This one we are in."

The bird looked around, jumping from a shoulder to the other several times before speaking again. "How I ended here?. I thought I was escaping from a blue, angry creature... and then... then..."

"Crow, we don't have much time. Can you help me?."

"Um...Sure. I guess. Ask the poor majestic bird to be a mere tourist guider. Who cares what his true dreams are. They are too tiny for human expectations. Ah, well. Wait here, I'll scan over the place."

Crow flew away until being unreachable for Kian's sight.

* * *

 

Ferrous taste in his mouth. Blood.

Sharp pain crossing his chest. A bullet.

Few seconds of deadly weakness, feeling his strengths abandoned him finally, but still yet, he kept on living. He wondered where that stubbornness came from. There were people so devastated that the only thing they could do was to live. Even against their will. But it was not going to last forever. He knew it.

His eye was irritated due to the smoke, and the blowing sounds of explosives combined with screams of insanity, pain, and revenge kept striking his ears. He smiled. It was the madness that grows under oppressive layers that finally turns into sweet, twisted blasts of shock. It was a marvellous strident song liberated, at last, by the chaos, by the poisonous hatred cultivated over generations of bowing before their masters, by a broad madness that had been inoculated for too long. It was so liberating. _Maddeningly liberating._

Time for repayment. Time for slaughter of Azadi bodies. Time for unstoppable retribution. Everyone had wiped out all the fears that had shaped their lives since they were born. Free of such heavy chains, they had accepted this battle as the last one; their last sacrifice, worth dying while trying. So that mighty power that comes from accepting one's fate, setting free frustrations and anger, kept them fighting fiercely. This was a battle from which they were going to come up as winners or corpses. There were not in-betweens. They would make sure of that.

Likho and his group - at least those who were still alive- could not join the ecstasy of the rebellion in the streets outside the Fortress, even though they could feel its euphoria fuelling their wounded bodies. They had to finish the key role they were assigned to blow up the damned Tower, and the time was getting close. Kian seemed to never go out of the building while soldiers and wizards waves kept coming and attacking them. _Damned gh'azi, if it were not for Saga's words asking for you to be alive until the end of the rebellion..._

At some point, Likho fell on his kneels, coughing.  _It was about time._ A flow of blood dropped from his chest. He could feel his life being drained. How much blood had he lost?. How long it would last.  _It was about time_ .

He almost could hear his people's tongue from his natal village. His mother. His father. Delkram.

_It was about damn time._

* * *

 

With hands up, a dark masked figure was in front of an unnaturally floating golden staff from which the light raised up. A pray in a strange language echoed all around them, pronounced with a metallic rusty voice. The air had a distinguished smell of muddy, cold humidity.

"Hey, what's up?." Crow said as he flew to the dark figure trying to land on his shoulder, but as soon as the bird reached him, the man grabbed Crow's neck.

"I thought I got rid of you. What a useless messenger. Now, you bring unwanted guests." The man's voice was muffled by the mask, but still yet it had a deep, dusty tone, as if it were from another world, from another time. When the dark figure finished his words, he twisted the bird's neck. A dry crunch of bones and the lifeless body fell on the ground, discarded. "Go back from where you came, Kian. Do not meddle in things you can barely ken.".

Kian looked at the pile of feathers on the ground as the penetrating hum clouded his mind more and more. He drew his sword and ran toward the figure who did not wait for reacting. Taking the staff, the masked man half summoned a creature of dark, thick foam from which phantasmal black tendrils popped out moving in desynchronized pace. It was not dark or blood magic -otherwise Kian could notice it-, it was something beyond this world, terrifying. Outsider.

 

He ran into the creature with his sword firmly hold and pierced it, but it was useless: the sword passed through that ephemeral body. However, the tendrils that attacked him burned his skin, without venturing to go beyond. Surprisingly, the creature drew back when it tasted Kian's skin and went to hide into the staff once again. That was the perfect moment for the dark figure to attack him by hitting him with the staff. Kian barely could dodge it and received part of the blow in his neck. It burnt, but it was more than that. Kian could feel something drained into his own body. Something dark and cold as the vacuum. He had no time to wonder further and struck over.

Sword against staff clanged in a fierce battle. Kian's numbed senses were working against him, but not enough to overlook how that perturbing energy was drained into him. He needed the fight to be as short as possible, not only to avoid that energy, but also to help the people outside the Tower who were still fighting, waiting for him to appear and then activate the bombs. For that reason he changed his attacks. In a fast movement, he stepped back and threw the sword toward the figure as if were a spear, but the masked man dodged it almost tripping. That was all the distraction that Kian needed. He jumped to the figure, punched him, and grabbed the staff. Now Kian could feel it in all its dark splendour as a caustic cold energy ran into his own body. It was terrifying, as the prophecies said it was.

The masked man screamed while dark cold tendrils raised up from his own body and staff, and started being assimilated into Kian, getting weaker.

The fire inside his guts was impossible to bear, so Kian fell on the ground, holding tightly the staff that was melting his hands skin and burning his chest with a dark, cold fire. He only could scream and pant and writhe in agony. If he was being devoured or the other way around, it was hard to determine. The only certainty he had was that thing was becoming part of himself.

Suddenly, a shift appeared in middle of the labyrinth from where Saga walked out, observing in pain the slow process that was taking place in Kian's body. Once finished, Kian threw the staff and contorted over himself, looking at his damaged hands.

With silent steps, Saga walked to the man whose mask had fallen on the ground.

"Mom is nowhere. You need to stop this madness".

The dark figure looked up, surprised, as his tears started to run across his cheeks. Saga squatted beside him and cupped his face. He was older of what she remembered. He was lost, alone, scared. He barely could remember where he was or why despite having all the memories of what he had done. It felt as if they were not his. "Saga?. Is it you?."

She smiled. "Papa".

He embraced her tightly. "When you left I had nothing to live for. You did the same that your mother. You left me alone. I've been looking for you..."

"Mom had duties bigger than any of us. As I have now." Whitehouse looked at her terrified. "Let's talk at home. You have done enough." she said, and stepping aside, she summoned a rift to the land of Nowhere and allowed her father to walk into.

Slowly, Kian recovered his consciousness from the pain shock. Saga squatted beside him and helped him to sit. She took Kian's jaw and looked inside his eyes. The dark, cold sea was in there now. Her child was as special as herself, he would overcome that monstrosity. He had to. With some luck, if those strange powers to consume and destroy everything around him were the same ones that gave him so much success along his Apostle career, the worlds would be safe from the Undreaming. At least for a time.

He looked at his own hands, burned, part of them in raw flesh, the other part cauterized. The piercing heat was still in them, melting his skin. He closed his eyes for a second, afraid of the strange change he felt in his inside. The lost memories he had recovered days ago, were now vanished. He looked at Saga, asking in silence, confused. He knew who she was but lacked those emotions towards her. But how?. A week ago they were there… now, simply gone.

She caressed his cheek. “You'll be fine. Live. The more you live, the more you will consume it”. She walked away and took from the ground the lifeless body of the bird. The precious Crow she loved before she could understand that those emotions were from another person.

With a gesture of her hand a new rift appeared and for the last time she looked at the man who was still surrounded by pain, knowing he was now the guardian of something terrible in his inside.

“Wait. Won't I see you again? I have questions.” his words stuttered; waves of pain hit his body.

“We all have.” She smiled, crossing the rift, “But do not worry my child, in a couple of days I will come back. But for now, important things await me, and you must survive. Go.”

The rift closed with a strong bang.

Alone, with the echo of the hum in his mind, Kian stood up, groaning as the pain reached every corner of his body. The world spun under his feet, and his mouth had a foul taste. He used his hands to get up, but the pressure damaged his palms; they were now bleeding, half raw, half cauterized, swollen and beating. Hardly holding his sword, he returned through the same path he had come. Somehow, the lack of hum reverberating all around made easier for him to orient.

When he stepped out of the Tower, he observed horrified at the dead spread across the big garden. Azadi and Magicals alike, mutilated and twisted in odd ways, blood spilled everywhere.

He looked at the group who was still fighting. Even though most Dolmari were alive, controlling the situation, their physical state was critical. All of them where bleeding somewhere.

He easily spotted Likho, who had just pierced an agonizing Azadi soldier with an ultimatum. He looked at him, smiling imperceptibly, but the gesture disappeared when Likho grabbed his chest and fell on his kneels. He was exhausted, bathed in his own blood, with several bullets in his body. He was probably heading to a dangerous state, still alive due to his remarkable strength of will but counting down his minutes.

“Likho” Kian said approaching the man, helping him once again to stand on his feet. 

“You did it?”

“It's done. We can blow the Tower.”

Likho tried to shout the rest to retreat, but a bloody cough interrupted his words. Kian gave the order, and by helping each other, they returned through the corridors that now had nothing to do with the maps in their minds. Many had collapsed, others had big holes due to the explosions, others were set on fire and were full of smoke.

 

Out of the Fortress, they met a group of Azadi soldiers led by Hami, protecting Utana and Sahya. The groups looked at one another for a long moment.

“Kian, what have you done?” Utana voice echoed in his mind. He had almost forgotten her. The memory of the gentle touch of her hand over his head when he was a lonely child paralysed him for a moment. Hami only shook his head in disapproval, observing all the Magicals around Kian. Likho, who was fighting strongly to keep his consciousness, focused on the Azadi at his front. 

“I've done nothing by myself. I followed what this land wants, what the corpses of thousands of Magicals demand. What's fair. ” Kian said.

Suddenly, a second group of Magicals ran outside the Tower and stopped before them. It was Yhruk's group, who this time was holding a pike with a head on its top. He looked at Likho and how he was leaning all his weight on Kian, and wrinkled his nose. Then, he observed the Azadi group and laughed carelessly. His laughter resounded clearly and loudly despite the screams and blasts spread all over the city. The man shoved the pike towards the Azadi group, and the head was ejected from the spear's top, rolling on the ground. It stopped in front of Sahya. It was Vanom's head. “There you have your lover, in the Azadi fashion that's usually reserved to my people.” Yhruk said.

Utana gave some steps backwards, but Hami took her arm and stopped her.

“How this is possible, my dear Kian?, I did not want to believe you were a traitor...” Utana's soft voice reached Kian's soul. His chest hurt.

“They used the Goddess' words to invade this land and kill their people. Magicals turned into an interference when you built this ridiculous Tower, so you had to get rid of them somehow. That's why you built the camps in Ge'en. You always knew this… and still yet, you looked aside.”

In that moment, under the pressure of the other Magical group's sight, Likho stood up, separating his body from Kian's, limping. However, a lot of blood dropped on the ground with his movement and he could not avoid to keep the support by holding himself from Kian's shoulder. He could feel his strengths abandoning him.

Hami looked at the bleeding Dolmari. “You must be happy now, Kian's mind is all yours.”

Likho spat to Hami with the small amount of energy he had, and immediately after he could feel a chill crossing his back. A hooded member of the recently joined group had approached him and had placed her healing hand on his back to ease the pain, to keep him a bit far away from death. It was Na'ane in combat clothes. She spread a wave of healing magic on his body to close, once again, the most dangerous injures he had, and for first time in a long, long time, Likho was grateful with her.

“Nobody has my mind. This world we have built has never been fair with them.” Kian said.

“You are so wrong, this is so wrong, Kian...” Utana added. “Maybe what some particular Azadi have done was a bit extreme-”

“A bit?.” Kian frowned, as he coughed a bit of blood. His inside was still burning. He used his hand to cover his mouth, but then he remembered its raw flesh exposed, and the pain was intensified “They use Dolmari meat for feeding prisoners. They were experimenting with them. They wanted to exterminate all of them. All. Ge'en has been, for decades, a camp of horror and torture. And Anna knew it too, like you.” Kian said looking first to Hami and then Utana. “And you are telling me this is the Goddess' will?, that I am the traitor to Her words? That all this is just a “bit” extreme?”

“Some times we need to make sacrifices for a greater good, Kian” she insisted. Her words only made the Magicals snarl.

“Sacrificing the Magicals' children?. How is that Greater? What can be greater that could justify these monstrosities?”

“You will understand-”

“No, you'll do. It ends now.” Kian's voice darkened, as his eyes turned endlessly black, and a dark mist emanated from his body for a brief moment, “Leave now. I won't stop them.” he opened his arms showing all the people he had around, all angry rebels.

“Kian, are you really betraying us? Are you biting the hand that gave you so much when you needed it the most?”

“A hand that while fed me, kept slaughtering Magicals with the other. The goddess never had such cruel hands”.

“Kian, put some sense in your head... rebels are doomed.” Hami used his last chance while Yhruk's group surrounded them. 

“Return to Asadir. The Magicals will take Marcuria. And it'd better for Asadir to respect these lands' freedom, otherwise... they won't hesitate to retake Sadir too.”

“They corrupted your mind beyond salvation, Kian...” Utana looked at Kian, suffering with that image, “They should have succumbed to the invaders ages ago-”

“Maybe not. Maybe after a while they would have resisted the invasion, as they are doing it right now. Now leave.”

“Wait” Likho said faintly but clearly, “The fucking empress is our.”

Sahya, who was still lost observing Vanom's head, looked at Hami and Utana, her face disfigured in tears.

“Kian, please...” Utana's plea was ignored, and Yhruk's dragged the young woman far away and beheaded her.

“They are immensely merciful.” Kian said “Azadi have done thousands of times worse to them. And you know it.”

Hami took Utana's arm and pushed her to leave before the rebels would change their mind. Imperceptibly, Likho made a gesture to a couple of comrades, those in the best shape, who disappeared short after Utana and Hami. They were not going to leave them escape, to carry intel of the rebellion to Azadi lands. But Likho preferred to make it discreetly. It was better that way for Kian. It was needed for the Magicals too.

The group, wounded and exhausted, left the place before the big explosion destroyed the proud Azadi Tower. It finally fell asunder. The whole town was silent as long as the collapse lasted. All the pain, all the blood and death made flesh and bone in each of them, had not been in vain. It had not been truly in vain. Likho saw that tower falling into ruins, and for first time he could feel that something of all that they had passed through, just a bit, had been worthy.

And with that weak feeling of triumph, he closed his eyes and his consciousness disappeared.

* * *

 

Background music for this part:

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dbyuju0QlZw ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dbyuju0QlZw)

 

It did not take more than a week to reduce every Azadi of Marcuria. Half of them left the land, to never go back, and the other half were mutilated in the streets, tortured in secret corridors, hanged in the town trees. The whole place had acquired a macabre decoration, but it was just the wild need to put an end to a deep, denigrating hatred that every magical had cultivated during their lives. From now on, cleansed, they could start anew.

During the next seven days and seven nights the population of Marcuria celebrated, for this new freedom, for their dead, for all the pain and humiliation that finally had ended.

 

In a solitaire corner of the Shady Quay, in a porch of an abandoned shack, Likho sat aside a small table, drinking some alcohol that he finally could indulge himself without guilty or despair. It was a beverage to celebrate and commemorate those who were not lucky enough to stay alive to this point. All that madness had ended partially, and even though it was supposed to make him happy, the shadow of an old duty darkened the ale's taste. He looked at the stars and raised his glass to his mother, to his father, to every family member and friends that had been left behind.

Steps approached him from his back, a chair was moved slowly aside the table, and the mysterious figure sat there. He looked out of the corner of his eye at the only Azadi alive in Marcuria.

Kian smiled at him and put his bandaged hand on Likho's unhurt shoulder, sliding it to the back to his neck, pressing close to the nape. Likho had goosebumps.

“And you thought you were going to die in this war.” Kian chuckled.

“I almost did.” Likho said, patting his own chest. A bullet had gone through his sternum and only by chance it did not hit any vital point. Three bullets were in the other shoulder, and two hit his legs, leaving him with a slight limp when walking fast. A body so scarred.

“Almost. But you didn't.” Kian said and looked at the sea, dark and cold. “This land will heal. Next month they will choose different candidates for a government. Representatives of every race will be part of a triumvirate. Enu already suggested you as the one representing the Dolmari.”

Likho snorted shaking his head slowly. “Damned Zhidling.”

“No Azadi will be allowed to invade this land or torture any magical never again. This is the first step into something better. Shepherd must be so happy.”

Likho nodded dryly and drank a bit more.

Silence.

“So...” Kian moved his head and observed the man, lowering his hand to Likho's forearm. He caressed him with the gesture. “What now?”

Likho put the glass on the table and looked at him. His eye was darker and teary. “I don't know...”

Kian took the glass and drank. It tasted to ale with Likho's scent around it. “I've given you my word. To the very end.” he placed the glass in the table.

Likho touched the glass's border with the tip of his finger. “What do you want?”

“It's not me who has to decide. I'm who has killed… so many. It's not my place to ask for anything.”

Likho moved the glass making it spin on the table, looking for the words in his mind. “Magicals here… it will be a matter of time for them to decide to kick you out.” He stopped, wondering why he had said that. That Dolmari wanted Kian dead, not simply kick him out. Likho also wanted that any suspicion of corruption upon his own persona would be eliminated. Kian had to disappear, for sure, and he had to do it by Likho's hands in order to clean his opaque reputation as a Dolmari. “Your life is mine. You said so. Once.” He stood up, took Kian's lapels and kissed him slowly, enjoying for the last time that unique and twisted experience they shared. He led Kian to sat on the table and broke the kiss. His eye was more teary than ever. “I would like to tell you... I thank you for all this... for any chance of betrayal that you never took, and.. those nights-” his words stopped in middle of his throat. Silence. He only observed each other into the eyes. They wanted this to last forever, suspended in time, “-but duty... I've promised... Once...”

Kian closed his eyes and smiled, approaching him to kiss him again, now in his style. Slowly; caring, joyful, tired. He was going to say those words that he had killed in his lips many times during those nights, but he did not. They were going to be his last words, but they were a low blow, or could be perceived as a bad joke. He preferred to save the moment, to bring it to his own grave.

He saw Likho drawing his dagger and getting closer to him. He spread the legs so the contact could be more intimate, hiding himself in that big chest. Likho kissed Kian's forehead, as Kian embraced the man's waist. At least the scent, as the last thing to breathe, was a wonderful detail while leaving that horrible world. He could almost forget how dirty his hands were. He felt Likho's arms around him, positioning the dagger between his low armpit and his ribs. It was going to be right into the heart. He feared for a second and buried his face in that bulky chest. “May I ask you to do it quickly?.”

Likho sighed.

He had to do what was needed.

What nobody would do.

That had been always his role.

* * *

_"Sleep, child, sleep. Sleep in your mother's heart._  
Let the wind blow and the rain fall. Hear the executioner's call.   
Watch the traitor's head roll, as the Shadow takes his soul.   
Sleep, child, sleep. We shall never part.   
For we will soon be free,   
together, forever, in the cold, cold sea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ★·.·´¯`·.·★ [Follow the Balance cycle : Go to Chapter 17_Follow] ★·.·´¯`·.·★ 
> 
> ★·.·´¯`·.·★ [Break the Balance cycle : Go to Chapter 17_Break] ★·.·´¯`·.·★ 
> 
>  
> 
> Next chapter will be a dual chapter, so you will be able to choose your preferred ending :D shifting the Balance at your will.


	17. Chapter 17_Follow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, any suggestion or correction will be appreciated.  
> Current mood of the fic: Fuck the Canon.

“It will be fast.” Likho said while calculating the inclination of his dagger to reach Kian's heart from his lower armpit, and to give him the instant death that somehow he had earned. His hand trembled. “This is for my father. To put an end to this...to-”.

His words were not needed. Nobody wanted an explanation. But, he did it as a personal reminder of why he was doing something against his own desires. Maybe the beast inside him had taken over his soul completely. Perhaps that Asadi had tamed it, as rumours said. Perhaps the only way to get lost again, under a wild beast's whims was to destroy its Master's presence. That way of thinking turned his stomach.

His doubts were quickly filled with his father's image, convulsing a little bit in his last death rattle to lay there, lifeless, on a pool of blood. He still could remember sharply his father's open eyes, judging his murderer while getting darker.

He felt a squeeze around his waist that brought him back to reality. The murderer was there, pressing his forehead against his own chest, tensed as the delay of the execution seemed to last forever. Likho wanted to say something, but it was difficult. And absolutely useless. There were no fitting words for that moment. Neither hatred nor love, because both were mixed, entangled in such disgusting way, corrupted by the creature under his skin, as filthy as the world where they lived.

Things could have been so different under other circumstances.

Pointless to think about.

Likho closed his eye and pushed the dagger in a clean and fast movement. A guttural sound drowned against his chest, and after a moment, those warm arms around his waist fell.

His hand kept trembling, almost in regret, and with that dark demeanour that children have when they realize about their mistakes, he took off the dagger. Blood stained his hand.

He put the body on the table and observed it. His most precious dream had finally come true, and was there, lifeless, closed eyes, face in a gesture of peace. Accomplished.

Where was the satisfaction that was supposed to fill his soul now?.

He had grown up thinking on the joy he would experience after killing his father's murderer, but nothing crossing his mind and chest in that moment was joy. It was more like despair. He was so shocked with his own action that he did not perceived that a dark, thick mist was abandoning Kian's body. He only noticed the time being tore apart for an instant, as rifts usually do.

It was only after a couple of minutes that he saw movements out of the corner of his eye. It was Saga being led by Bip to Shady Quay, both of them with big smiles in their face. Spotting him at the distance, they walked to that shack's porch, but it did not take much time for Bip to wipe out his smile. Under the cold moonlight he distinguished that body on the table, and a disturbing leak of blood that was painting the ground slowly.

Saga frowned and looked at the sea while swearing in anger for a moment.

Unable to believe what he was seeing, Bip approached the table and touched the body. He had to feel the blood in his fingers. Horrified, he looked at Likho in silence, asking him for explanations.

And it was in that moment that Likho could see in Bip's look his own, back then, full of horror and anger and pain. Another Dolmari swearing to revenge. The Balance had a twisted ironical way to punish. Likho could not keep Bip's look and gave him his back.

“You killed him... how could you-?. He was your friend. You... you are a betrayer.”

Those words pierced Likho's chest as he threw the dagger away, and rubbed his face, leaning against the wall of the small house.

Bip ran away, shoving Saga aside on his way out. She approached the table and touched Kian's cheek. There was no breath and the stiffness was reclaiming that body slowly .

“Likho, silly Likho.” Saga's voice wavered, “I've told you to break the cycle. I've told you to stop feeding it. But you have been always so stubborn. Kian... my little child.”

 

Out of the blue, the sea shook, turned black and furious; the air smelt foul and the breeze cut cheeks. The black sky lost the moon suddenly, and all the life in the town was not devoured by the darkness just because there were candles everywhere.

The first cannons reached the middle of the town, and a wave of screams spread all over. Thousands of cloudships reached the docks, dropping large troops of Azadi to start the slaughter once again. Meanwhile, the ships flying over the town kept throwing bombs. Fire and screams swamped the streets again.

“The troops!. Azadi troops are coming!. Defend!.” desperate voices repeated over and over again.

 

Saga looked up at the sky. The Balance was still weak, fighting to remain, but unable to control the extremes. She looked at Likho, too lost to be saved, too scared to be close, leant on the shaky wall, ashamed, regretful.

She simply close her eyes and opened a rift. She looked at Kian for the last time and walked in. She had more worlds to save, or at least to delay their destruction. Arcadia had been doomed already. The Undream had reclaimed this world.

“Goodbye Likho.” She said, and left Marcuria forever.

 

Soon, several groups of armoured Azadi surrounded Likho, but he did not fight this time. He closed his eyes, renouncing to any will of going on living. He had finally been defeated. 

A whole life of fighting just to end almost in the same way when he had started, swearing revenge at the obscene display of Azadi power. They were so powerful over him, it was so useless any resistance. They had always been the masters of the world. 

His accomplished vengeance hardly could offer him some fulfilling sentiment. He only could feel the macabre laugh of the  _Ga'andaar_ under his skin, enjoying his own self-destruction, enjoying the fact that, finally, this was going to end. 

He could heard the sound of the pistol being aimed, and then, a thundering into nothingness. 

* * *

 

He opened his eyes and saw a strange ceiling. It took him a second to recognize it; the old ceiling of the apartment that he had been living in since he put a feet in that city to become a dancer. _Always believe in your dreams, uh?_. It was a more innocent time, indeed.

He turned in the bed, enjoying the blanket's warmth in a cold winter morning, and saw the watch on his night table. It was nine o'clock.

He rubbed his face and noticed tears in his eyes. Maybe the dream had been more stressful of what he remembered. Maybe that fight was taking a big toll on him, even though it had been almost a month ago.

He got up and took a shower. He looked at his body reflected on the mirror. There were things that looked strange. Or maybe not. But it was as if his whole body felt different. Maybe it was just his imagination. A fragment of that fight returned to his memory, regretfully. He had been so hard on a person who had been with him for such a long time. No. It had not been long; in fact, it had been a short time but it felt as a lifetime. He sighed gathering his dreadlocks in a low tail.

After breakfast, he forgot everything; now it was time to go to work. The Fringe cafe was not going to get ready by its own.

 

At a long distance he could identity the woman beside the entrance, waiting for him. It was hard not to, considering her back and forth.

"Woha, you overslept. Must be the end of the world", she said.

He smiled shaking his head slowly while looking for the key in his pocket. "At least it's not ten PM".

"Sure, the brightest side of everything. I like that, though, it's pretty out of character for you."

"Huh?".

Both of them entered the Cafe, turned on the lights, and worn their aprons.

"You're the grumpy one and the-"

"Huh?. I'm not, Emma. I'm just serious."

"Pft. To put it lightly." She laughed while starting to put down all the chairs in the place.

They cleaned the bar, straightened the pillows on the sofa, arranged the decoration. The place was decent enough for midday activity. To rest a bit before the first client came, they sat in the bar, one in front of the other. He poured some recently made coffee in their mugs and remained silent for a while. .

"Hey, how are you?. Really." Emma broke the silence tapping his shoulder. He blinked a bit surprised while he kept revolving idly the small spoon in his coffee.

"Fine. Why do you ask?. It's been just a month since the last time I saw you. Nothing changes here. Everything is fine. By the way, how went your vacations?"

"Well, yeah. Fine. I've visited family. Boring stuff. But don't change topics... I was asking you because... you know."

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms and leaning on the bar. "No?. I don't know?."

"I've heard... you two got a fight..."

"Oh, damn. Everyone knows that?. That was April, right?. She can't have her mouth shut."

"You know her. She just wants you to be alright."

A gentle, nostalgic smile was draw in his face. However, a dark image of a woman getting killed in a swamp crossed his mind. Where did that come from?. He took a sip of his coffee.

"Besides, it's a pity. This new boy is really charming, with his mysterious silences and shy smiles. Quite handsome. You got such a delicate taste. It's sad you caught him first, otherwise I would have done to him th-"

"Emma, your mouth."

She giggled. "So, what happened?. Really."

He sighed. "You know, it's been a whole year of a long distance relationship. He went to study abroad, and he wanted me to move in there. I can't simply do that... Besides, my parents... I'm still... trying to get use... to this new side of myself."

"Mn. That's why you two fought?. That was lame."

"He asked for more time. I'm not comfortable... and... I'm not sure...” he sighed, “Things escalated. As simple as that. And I'm not going to stop him with his life, same as he won't with mine. I need to do thing to my own pace..."

“Yeah, sure... but did he compel you?”

“No. It's more like... I do. Anyway...”

Emma blinked. "So you... broke?"

He took a long sip and looked down. "I did."

"What a way to chicken out. Was this too long ago?"

"It felt like yesterday when we argued, but... it is like a month by now."

The Fringe Cafe's door opened and both of them looked at the guest. The man approached the bar and took a seat by Emma's side, greeting her. Charlie raised an eyebrow. The guest looked at him with the intention to greet him directly, but he opened his mouth but no sound came out of it. He simply looked down.

"What a surprise. We were just talking about you" Emma said, overacting.

Charlie glared at her and kept cleaning the bar with movements a bit aggressive. “What the client wants to drink?”

“Ugh. Charming. Now I can see why people love you” Emma said giving Charlie a playful cuff.  
“I don't want to bother you but-” The guest said. However, Charlie interrupted his words.  
“Well. But you do. I thought you were abroad by now. But you are here. Bah, for what it matters.”

"Maybe I should leave you two alone, right?, you must have things to talk about" Emma said, standing up.

However, Charlie grabbed her wrist before she could escape. "We have not".

The guest chuckled. "Always so stubborn."  
“I'm sure this is not a coincidence, right Emma?” Charlie said releasing her.

She forced a giggle, looking aside, “Ah, well... destiny has mysterious ways of working....”

"What a bullshit is that?” Charlie sighed and looked at the guest, “Kian, I know April went to talk to you half of the things I talked to her, but we have settle this down already. Sorry for the mess they may have caused you. We are done. We were clear on that."

Kian raised his eyes just to look down again, "Are you not going to listen to me what I have to say?"

Charlie turned on his heels, arranging the bottles in the shelves at his back. He simply made a gesture of indifference. “Whatever”.

Emma took her seat again and shook her head slowly to Kian, rolling her eyes. She wrinkled her nose and mocked Charlie's answer in a mute way, making Kian chuckle again.

“I've moved myself here. Seven streets from here, in fact. The university needs a librarian assistant… so...” He looked down for a moment taking something out of his pocket and putting it on the bar, and then observed the man's back at his front. “I brought you one of your favourite books as an apology.” Charlie turned and looked down at the book. It was the masterpiece of an old Poet called Delkram; a book which was an ode to the freedom and the forgiveness. “Considering all what we had passed through... would you mind... to give me a second chance?” Kian added, looking down immediately. 

“What?. Why?. You were going to study abroad, you said.”

“I went abroad, it's true. Just to settle thing down. Ï can keep my studies at a long distance while working in the University. Once in a while I should go there to give exams… I know this must sound crazy, but... I love too much this quiet life here. Not the big city. Besides, working with the librarian is what I need to become one. It's all what I need. And, well... and you if... If you can give me... a second chance."

Another flash crossed Charlie's mind. This time it was a battle; blood, screams, and bombs everywhere. Pain filling every tiny part of his body. Yeah, these were calmer times. Fused times.

He looked at Kian thoroughly. He could have bet that Kian's face had scars and several disturbing tattoos, but he was wrong. It was smooth and clean with some freckles on his nose and that annoying stubble. _Better times, uh?_.

He smiled with mistrust. "Wait, did April talk to you _all_ what I'd vented with her?. Damn April."

Kian chuckled. “Not all. She just told me that it was a good time to come back and talk to you."

Charlie looked at the book on the bar and caressed its cover. Freedom and forgiveness.

He sighed and looked at the young man.

Damn April. Charlie smiled. His old crush was now his matchmaker.

 

Who knows how long would it take to the worlds to melt down and collapse. Who knows if each collapse is a cycles that allows the multi-verse they live in. Who knows if all that theory is a crazy babbling of an old Lady that had crossed his path once.

Whatever it was, whatever it meant those strange flashes in his mind, it did not matter. Life was too short to keep grudges, to reject someone he cared of.

 

“Maybe you deserve a second chance. But don't tease your luck for a third one” Charlie said. His mind, which was usually exhausted, rested peacefully in a quiet, calm thought of a future shared with that shy wannabe librarian. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was the first ending I wrote. It is a suitable ending for my own viewpoint. To me it's really hard to solve or even deal with the deep wound related to the death of Likho's father. It's something that can't be fixed or even forgiven in my opinon. Likho was a child back then and grow up bitter with the experience. As he said, he is now all what he is due to that event.  
> The whole relationship between both chars in the game was entangled with this particular issue. Solving this point has to be really intense (not a lazy “well, I guess Gods will overlook if I don’t kill you”-canon). But, when I realised how I ended things in this fic, I shouted to myself “Bury Your Gays”; one of the tropes I keep calling out all the time. I hate it. So... I had to fix my own disaster in the second part of this chapter. And somehow, this worked out much better than I've imagined. But I thought that maybe some readers would appreciate another ending, so that's why I've written the other one.  
> Thank you for reading this long fic and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did while I was writing it.  
> As usual, any feedback (suggestions, grammar, styles, whatever) will be appreciated.


	18. Chapter 17_Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, any suggestion or correction will be appreciated.  
> Current mood of the fic: Fuck the Canon.

Likho snack his fingers around Kian's nape, who shivered with the touch. One last hit and everything would have ended, forever.

“Tell me, before accomplishing my vengeance...”, Likho said, caressing that nape with his thumb, unsure. “...what had you felt when you killed my father? What crossed your mind?”. He needed some ire, some anger that had cooled down over time. Now, after all they had passed through, he needed an excuse; the boiling blind emotion to nail his fingers in that nape and push the dagger deep inside. 

“Do you want the truth?” His voice was muffled; Kian's forehead was now pressed against Likho's sternum, hurting the still not completely healed wound there. 

“Of course”. It was what he was asking for, to find strength, at least for a brief moment, just to finish his task and set free his endless regret, because he was more than sure that was how everything was going to end.

“Anger. And fear. A lot of fear.”

Likho tried to push the dagger but his hand trembled. He was expecting another answer. “Fear? You?, who murdered so many? Why?”

“When I was three years old, my father was killed by a Dolmari. One that looked like your father, or that's what I remember. Maybe they were not even similar.. as you said, back then, all Dolmari looked alike to me. And I was a child, hard to remember in details... but I recall how he killed him, how I cried.... how alone, helpless I felt in that moment. I had lost my mother a year ago.”

Likho forgot to breathe for a while, shocked by the revelation, waiting in silence.

“When I killed your father, I was so angry. In my mind, that Dolmari was the same who had killed my father, I wanted him dead, suffering a long agony. But when I saw you, just after killing him, behind him... I was scared. You looked... like me, like a reflection from my past. You... were I.” 

“Why you never told me this...” Likho whispered

“Would have it mattered? Would have it justified your father's death? Would have you believed me?”

Kian pressed his arms around Likho's waist, still feeling the dagger on his lower armpit.

Likho chuckled. “You are right. Maybe not at first time. But now...”. With a tortured sigh, Likho lowered his dagger, still having his other hand on Kian's nape, and remained there, silent.

Kian bit his lower lip, squeezing that man, breathing his smell, feeling that warmth. “Is there any way to heal all this? Both of us?.”

Likho looked up observing the moon. “I don't know.”

He could feel it once more. The Beast. No. The tamed Beast. He was falling into pieces, as many as desires he had.

He needed his vengeance, he had wasted his whole life ruminating this moment, and now, the creature under his skin was making almost impossible to accomplish his duty. A man that killed his father, but also who had never betrayed him during the last years, a man who had helped him to win a world where every Magical could be seen as a person, freeing Marcuria from a long, terrifying nightmare. A man who silently had been dealing with his deepest fears. 

“This could have been so different in other circumstances” Likho listened that muffled voice in his chest, softening his gesture, “I could have been a librarian, collecting books and reading them to the people of the town. You'd have been a calm skinner, selling your furs in the market. We would have talked at the Market of Old Town, a day like any other. You would have offered me the best cover for books in a fine leather. I couldn’t have been able to afford it, so I could've given you a book as part of the payment. We could have started a friendship... and more. We could have been at this point in a so different level.... No blood, no dead, no tortures....”

“That world... doesn't exist, Kian. Things didn't go that way.”

“I know. But I could have loved that life, I assure you. A simpler life.”

Likho sighed, trembling. This was a torture. He wanted that life too, but that man cuddled in his chest was a murderer... a murderer that killed his father. He  _had_ to remember that...  _he had to_ . But on the other side, the Kian that helped Rebels, the silent man that accepted his mistakes, that man that moaned in his arms; all of them were the same, the same man that had killed his father.

Could it be possible to find a solution to this dilemma?

His hand betrayed him, and the dagger fell clanging against the ground. Likho embraced the man tightly and rested his chin on Kian's head. He could not be tough and strong everyday of his life. Always doing what it had to be done. Whether he liked it or not. He was exhausted, deadly exhausted. 

Maybe the  _Ga'andaar_ under his skin was controlling him fully, but he was tired of fighting without end. Against the Azadi, against his own people, against the creature inside himself, against his memories and duties, against his own beliefs and Gods. 

Perhaps all what left of his Dolmari nature had been twisted to this tamed creature that wagged its own tail at the sight of the Azadi. Perhaps he had pushed his own Gods from each pedestal, breaking its figures asunder. Perhaps this war had disfigured his nature beyond salvation.

Whatever the case, he wanted to stop now. He wanted, finally, to give up.  _So be it._

He released the man and kissed him, slowly. He could not care less about other Dolmari lurking around, about the future, about himself. If this was what the creature wanted,  _so be it._

_Do not feed the cycle_ , a voice in the back of his mind told him. Fuck the cycle. The world could not be less worth saving when there was nothing left in a body but sorrow and loneliness rusting the soul. If the Beast wanted to do a feast with the remains, _so be it._

If this was what made him a Betrayer,  _so be it._

Kian insisted. “Nothing of that changes the fact that I killed your father.”

Likho took distance and looked at him. His eye was teary.

Loss. Endless loss. The list was so long that was hard to remember one by one all those who were part of it. He, or maybe the creature controlling his body now, did not want to add this man's name to that list. But how could he live with the consequences of this?.. His fears raised all at once.

And then, so suddenly that could be considered divine intervention, a memory clouded his mind. It was that scene in _Ge'en_ , with Bip's parents joined in front of their child and an Apostle observing them without bloody hands.

“It's true.” Likho said, “But you killed his murderer, time ago, somehow.”

Moved, Kian closed tightly his eyes and nailed his fingers in Likho's back.

The embrace lasted forever.

* * *

 

Soon, Marcuria chose a triumvirate system as a government, where a Zhid, a Dolmari, and a Human were elected by population. It was an experimental system in Arcadia, but it was worth trying. No more Empires for the country. It was the best option that would not stimulate old wounds.

Enu became part of it as the supervisor of the whole election process, being a specialist of bureaucracy in short time. She always had been good to see flaws in massive plans just with a glimpse.

Sadly, things did not work so well for Likho. Yruk had spread his own doubts about him all along the country, and most Dolmari had lost the respect that Likho had once. Not killing Kian had proved to them that he was not a Dolmari anymore, but a _Ga'andaar_ under the charm of an Azadi. It did not matter he was once the great Resistance fighter of Aba-Intiqua. His skin had been lost forever. All those years of fights, all that blood spilled, meant nothing for them. It was hard to say if Likho was affected by his own people's disdain. He had shut down his soul, focusing as soon as he could on the preparations of the return to his old land. He did not want to be part of Marcuria. It tasted to betrayal, to April, to disappointment, to fears. It was vital for him to return to Sadir, to keep focusing his own mind in battles, because after all, that was all what he knew.

In a couple of months, as soon as the new government in Marcuria seemed stable, several troops abandoned the country and headed to Sadir. Once there, working with the local Resistance groups, and using all the strategic knowledge that Kian shared with them, they could finally took over Sadir. The emperor was beheaded publicly, and Kian took his position with the guarantee of being controlled by Magicals that were put strategically for that reason: The Army general of the Empire which was a Dolmari, and the Highest scholar of the Empire University, a Zhid with an exhaustive knowledge of science, religions, and magic.

In this way, most Azadi would remain unwilling to revolt, because there was still an Azadi Emperor in command, but Magicals would have guaranteed their well-being, especially due to the Army general: Likho. At least in his old Aba-Intiqua,his people still trusted in him. And he wanted to believe that Azadi culture could permeate his people enough to make them reconsider many old ways of thinking.

Only time would show what it was to come.

* * *

 

He awoke in a bed. This one was bigger than those they used to have in the Enclave, and the place was a proper room, with sunbeams passing through the window, warming his body. He moved his leg, entangled with someone else's. It was Kian, still sleeping by his side, with an arm around his waist. Moving slowly, he could finally release himself from the embrace and sat in the bed. He rubbed his sleepy eye and observed the man whose naked torso was uncovered. New scars were on his shoulder. He looked at his own torso, and he could see those in his shoulder and in middle of the chest. It had been so close.

He stretched his arms and legs and observed the sun out of the window. It had been years since the last time he awoke in a proper room, with a calm feeling in his chest; no nightmares, no fears, nothing but a moderate contentment.

He shook slightly Kian's shoulder, awaking him in a long moan. The Azadi turned over and rubbed his eyes.

“Good morning” he said, scratching Likho's low back with lazy fingers. 

The Dolmari chuckled and stood up from the bed.  “ I need to check if they brought my attire. You'd better get your ass out of here. Today it's the big day, you fucking king.”

“The respect you have for your-”

“Do not test my patience, Alvane. You'll never be _my_ king. Remember that.”

Kian laughed, playfully looking at the Dolmari. He liked to tease that grumpy man with that. It was the only time when he could use his new royal position without feeling uncomfortable. “I need a bit of energy to get up...”

“What a lazy man you have turned into. It's obvious you are now part of the nobility shit.”

Kian chuckled. He was now so accustomed to smile. “All my energy was drained by the Resistance, and by a certain unsatisfied Dolmari... don't blame me.”

Likho grunted as he offered him his hand and pulled him out of the bed.

With lazy movements, Kian started to prepared the tedious process of the Azadi armour, while Likho simply left the room through a secret passage in the walls. That was how the Azadi Palace had been always, full of corners and secrets that only lovers and intriguers knew about.

Kian wore the first parts of his attire and looked at the mirror. He truly had to seem a perfect benevolent Emperor, not like the scruffy mess he usually was; wearing ragged clothes and always more interested in the library and the scholar issues than administration of the nation which, somehow, had fell onto Likho's responsibility. Sure, the Dolmari had not much to do as the Army General in peaceful times, so Kian felt no guilt at all to relegate those tasks to his right hand.

He smiled. It had been quite a ride.

Today was the big day after five years of battles, plots, and a whole society pushing against him. It was going to be the day when both nations, Marcuria and Sadir alike, were going to establish a mutual relationship allowing to their citizens to go to both nations safely. Marcuria had healed part of the grudges during those five years, and a new contact was needed.

 

Once he was dressed up, Kian walked through the long corridors of the Palace to reach the ceremonial room. He stayed hidden behind long, heavy curtains that separate the immense place. He could see some Marcuria representatives arriving. The Zhid representative was a young woman with sharp mind, followed by a Samare who was her assistant. The human representative was a bearded man with gentle gesture on his face. The Dolmari one was an old lady with young, energetic gestures that were a proof of her Rebel past. 

While observing the arriving of the guests, Kian could perceive footsteps approaching behind him. He turned over his heels and saw the majestic figure of his Army General. With a proud demeanour, Likho showed him first, in private, the traditional attire of the Dolmari fighters.

The sophisticated outfit was made of leather and fur with patterns, part of them carved in gold and silver lines. The shoulders were decorated with small branches from which hung delicate chains that accompanied the movement of his steps. Each chain had at its extreme a symbol of the sun, the Amada representation in nature. The Dolmari had most of his hair down, and a braid mixed with golden laces covered his left eye. His right eye was decorated with a heavy black line, and the symbol of the third eye was on his forehead.

“Wow... “ Kian said looking at him up down. “I've never seen this before.”

“Of course you haven't” he crossed his arms, proud. “My people had been always fleeing in a rush to have time to wear this for Azadi appreciation. It wouldn't have been useful for our survival.”

Kian chuckled, unable to avert his eyes on the Dolmari. “You are... marvellous”

Likho smiled confident. “If Aba-Intiqua will be now the nation of the tolerance and the acknowledgement of the past mistakes, people must see the rich differences. And accept them”.

“We'll do that.” Kian whispered, approaching him, enjoying the intense mutual look. “Besides, I think nobody would argue about that when their Army general is the one saying so.”

Likho chuckled, getting close to him. “I hope this will work. Please, Kian, make it work. I don't want more pain for my people. We deserve peaceful times, for once in our entire history.”

“I agree. And I won't be the only responsible of that, Likho. You'll work with me, with your people, with the Zhids and the Samare. Resistance has not ended. It just changed its form.” 

Likho smiled at him. His face was gentle and tired. A face that Kian never had seen, but he would not complain to see it more often.   
A fake cough broke the charm between them and immediately they stepped away, looking at the intruder.

“Am I... interrupting something?” That cynical smile and the self-confidence was there despite the years; it was unmistakable who was that Dolmari: Yruk. They were not expecting him to show up in Sadir because he had taken a security role in Marcuria, to prevent any Azadi attack reclaiming the lost power. The man had been the responsible of annihilating the few attempts that Marcuria had at first, and since then, everything had gone smooth. There were not many reasons for him to come to the Empire, unless... he were plotting something nasty to do.

He approached Likho, with his smile frost in his face, looking down up at his attire. “Do you think it's wise to use such traditional outfit for a non-Dolmari creature?” Likho clenched his teeth and glared at him. Kian could see a yellow flick in his eye. The last thing they needed now was a violent show for the two nations to watch. “Hey, we don't want problems.” Kian said.

Yruk looked at the Azadi, observing the traditional Azadi armour and wrinkled his nose. They were sick of those armours. His attention returned to Likho, and tilted his head while observing him, “I know what has been happening all these years here. I won't lie. It's a surprise to see a _Ga'andaar_ still loyal to his former people. So… you don't only do things to get the pleasure you want?”

Likho swallowed, this was so insulting.

“Is that again?.” Kian dragged Yruk's attention, staying beside Likho.“I can't believe you keep those ideas. Who you love doesn't define you. Look at my people. The Azadi men love men and still yet, have you ever seen a more loyal people to their traditions? To their goddess? To their people? To their own madness?.”

Yruk chuckled. “Well, look at you, the betrayer of his own people. You have erased many of your traditions in favour of Magicals... I can't see your point... or are you reinforcing mine?”.

“I'm not a betrayer. I'm just following my Goddess' true teachings. Those who attacked your people were the traitors.”

“Mn, but would that not mean that the average _gh'azi_ \- a _Ga'andaar_ \- is a dangerous vile creature, while you are the exception of them? That keeps proving my point.”

Kian pressed his lips. Truly this man was a master in twisting everything.

“The only point I'll prove you is the fucking beating I'm going to give you if you keep ruining things. I'm the army General of this fucked up country. Blacken my name here, and things could get unstable enough to erase all the advancement we did in these years. Are you so fucking willing to do so?. Do you prefer to destroy any chance of recovery because you believe fucking another man is sinful? Huh, that sounds so Azadi to me. We were the sinful because we were blue, Yruk. Make your fucking mind up. And mind your own crappy business elsewhere.”

Kian blinked. Yruk remained silent for a moment, observing the man deeply, slowly, considering every movement and every piece. He finally scratched his chin and smiled. “Well said. I see.” his smile got broader as if something perverse crossed his mind, “Tell me one last thing with the truth, fellow.” He said to Likho who nodded, mistrustful. “When did you turn into a  _Ga'andaar_ ?” Likho kept silence. “Have you been one when you killed Palevan? When you worked with us, here, almost twenty years ago?”

Likho lowered his face, but his voice, deep and husky, resounded. “Yes”.

Yruk was speechless as his smile was fading from his face slowly. “I see. So… you were born without skin.” Likho observed him, frowning. “If a  _Ga'andaar_ could walk all this path to this point without indulging itself in things that could put in danger my people… I guess I can keep the secret. Maybe… some things are a bit different now from what we used to think.” He looked at Kian. "Well, they certainly are". Yruk turned on his heels and spoke, “Rest assured. I won't cause you trouble. Just protect our people, and everything will be fine”. And with those words, he left the place. 

Likho released the pressure in his chest with a torturous sigh while feeling Kian's hand on his shoulder. He looked at him and nodded.

They had to head to the event. A new complicated future was awaiting them.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was the second ending I've prepared. It was not originally in my mind but somehow I grew fond on it, but not enough to make it my “headcanon”. It's too happy to my taste.  
> How to fix convincingly the deep wound between both characters was complicated. The only way to solve the dilemma was by killing Kian, but not literally, so I did it. Pretty cheesy, I may say, but well… I could not find another short way to put an end to this though. Of course, I could have written a second fic, as long as this one, related to how both of them took over Sadir, but… to be honest, I know how out of control that can go in my hands with all that freedom and lack of canon, and right now I need to focus on my projects (or maybe another fic, :P). So, here you got the ending “Bury not your Gays”.  
> Thank you for reading this long fic and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did while I was writing it.  
> As usual, any feedback (suggestions, grammar, styles, whatever) will be appreciated.


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